


demon's daughter

by m3owww



Series: maribat [4]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Maribat - Fandom, Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Damian Wayne Needs a Hug, Gen, Marinette Dupain-Cheng Needs a Hug, The Author Regrets Nothing, and a lot of violence, because I split the chapters by events and not by words, bio!dad bruce wayne, i'm much too lazy to do all the tags, inconsistent wordcount, no beta we die like jason, some blood and death, what's canon? I don't know
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:35:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 26,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25648927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/m3owww/pseuds/m3owww
Summary: Damian, always the more confident of the two, walks up to their father and eyes him up and down. “Don’t look so stunned, Father. I thought you’d be taller.”Marinette raises an eyebrow at her twin. “Akhi, he is six feet and four inches tall already. Any taller, and he would be a tree.”Batman stays silent, choosing to glare? Stare? Do something that Marinette didn’t know because the white lenses hid his eyes and his facial expression doesn’t change.
Relationships: Batfamily Members & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug & Damian Wayne, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug/Jonathan Samuel Kent
Series: maribat [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1842979
Comments: 219
Kudos: 907





	1. I-I

**Author's Note:**

> I actually have plans for this multi-chapter fic. What.
> 
> On another note, canon is a shithole so I just did whatever I needed for the sake of the plot.

Marinette Al Ghul was very, very angry.

Half the League had staged a coup, killing many of the members still loyal to the Demon’s Head. Her mother, Talia, was in a watchtower, rapidly shooting down the helicopters assaulting the compound.

And Ra’s Al Ghul, the Demon’s Head, lay on the floor in front of her, his body horrifically burnt. He was alive, but just. The work of Slade, his trusted right hand man. 

Marinette hurries to Ra’s’ side as her twin draws his sword and attacks the traitor, anger fueling every one of Damian’s attacks.

“I am sorry that I was never good enough, Ra’s, but I am not sorry that you will be dead soon.” She murmurs. Marinette stands up, the rage of the Pit burning inside her. These people want to kill her. Kill her brother. She refuses to let that happen.

She flips open her two steel fans and bares her teeth in a snarl as Slade swings at Damian, who blocks the blow, but the force of it sends him crashing into the building.

Marinette charges the man, fans glinting dangerously in the light. She dodges the first swing and delivers a swift kick to Slade’s stomach, one fan slicing a cut across his right cheek. The second blow is intercepted by her fans. She is pushed back, her slim eleven year old body no match for a full-grown, very well-trained assassin.

Damian joins her and the onslaught of attacks from both of them sends Slade flying across the courtyard.

“So you’re Talia’s little bastards.” He sneers. “Not bad for children, but no match for me.”

“We shall see about that.” Marinette hisses. The Pit rage inside her grows even larger, and she lets the madness control her movements. The steel fans whirl through the air as she flicks her wrists, spinning and kicking, pushing the man back under a balcony.

Damian understands her motive and slices through the support beams with his katana, sending a large amount of wood crashing down on Slade. When the traitor bursts upwards, Marinette feels satisfaction as Damian thrusts his blade into Slade’s right eye.

“And now, your heart.” He snarls. Slade parries Damian’s blow and intercepts Marinette’s swing with his armor, eliciting sparks. 

Three spheres roll to a stop at Marinette’s feet. They spew out black smoke, and the twins reflexively cover their noses with their sleeves as Slade makes his escape.

“I’ll make you two suffer for this. Next time.” Slade’s voice rings all around them as they search blindly through the haze.

The smoke clears in time for them to see Slade being lifted out of the compound by a helicopter, with a man they recognize crouching in it, smirking.

“Ubu.” Damian growls. Marinette puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Do not worry, _akhi._ We will make him pay.” The helicopter sails away and they follow it out of the building.

Her brother raises his sword. “Come back and finish it, cowards!”

The remaining traitors also throw smoke bombs as they are picked up by the helicopters, leaving the twins in front of a burning building, surrounded by smoke, corpses, and blood.

“Grandfather.” Damian remembers, running back into the burning building. Marinette follows, not about to let her brother go alone anywhere. Not after what just happened.

“Damian!” She hears Talia call. “Marinette! Wait!”

She ignores her mother and charges down the stairs that lead to the Lazarus Pit, then freezes at the bottom. Damian releases a shaky breath by her side as Talia stops behind them.

Ra’s’ burnt corpse lay in front of them, outstretched hand just mere centimeters away from the green water.

Damian walks towards the body, sword falling to the ground.

“Damian.” Talia says. Her brother tries to pick up the corpse, heaving with the strain.

“We have to get him into the Lazarus Pit.” He says desperately. Damian picks up the body, but Marinette runs in front of him, blocking his path, stuffing down the tiny spark of elation at seeing her oldest, and largest tormentor dead.

“ _Akhi_ , you know the Pit cannot heal bodies this damaged. Ra’s is gone for good.” Damian sets the corpse back down and bows his head, tears glimmering in his eyes but refusing to fall.

Talia puts a hand on each of their shoulders. “You did your best.”

“I failed.” Her brother says. Marinette lets her hand rest on top of his, offering him silent comfort. _We both did._

“We can’t think about that now. We must move.” Talia says. “Damian. Marinette. Come.” 

Marinette stands obediently, but Damian stays a moment longer. “Damian. Now!”

Marinette gently grasps her brother’s wrist and pulls him to his feet, following her mother out of the room.

“...Where are we going?” Damian asks.

“Gotham City.” Talia replies. “It’s time you meet your father.”

.o0o.

The ride to Gotham City is tense. Damian repeatedly polishes his katana, while Marinette continuously opens and closes her fans.

Their father is Bruce Wayne. World’s richest man, known for his work in many charities and for his ‘playboy’ reputation. At night, known as Gotham’s Dark Knight. In other words, their father is Batman.

Talia leaves them on the boat, choosing to track down their father and bring him back herself.

Marinette turns to Damian once she’s sure her mother is gone. “I would like to spar you, _akhi._ It would be a good outlet for both our feelings right now.”

Damian scans at the space around them. “As much as I want to agree, this space isn’t nearly large enough for a productive spar.”

Marinette huffs. “You are right. I shall meditate instead. The Pit rage has not completely receded yet from the fight.”

“Remind me why Mother wants us to stay behind this curtain again?”

“Officially, it is because she wants to keep us hidden until she is sure he will accept us. Unofficially, I think it is because she would like to seduce him first.” Marinette replies.

Their mother comes back not long after, with the footsteps of a tall man trying to be as silent as possible. Batman.

“Would you like a drink?” Talia asks.

“Last time that didn’t go so well.” A deep voice responds.

“Oh, you’re right. If I remember correctly, I put a little something in your beverage.”

“Same way I remember it.”

Damian and Marinette exchange a look. So this is how they were born.

“It made you romantic.”

“It made me do what you wanted.”

“Was it all bad, Beloved?”

A pause. “...No. It wasn’t.”

Marinette tunes out after that until Talia says “And now this man wants to kill us.” Her heels click closer to the curtain.

“Us?” Batman asks.

“Not you.” Talia replies. “Me.” She draws back the curtain, letting Damian and Marinette step out of the shadows.

“And your children.”

“Children?” Batman says, only the slightest change in tone indicating his surprise. “You expect me to believe this?”

“I assure you, they’re yours.” Talia says easily.

Damian, always the more confident of the two, walks up to their father and eyes him up and down. “Don’t look so stunned, Father. I thought you’d be taller.”

Marinette raises an eyebrow at her twin. “ _Akhi_ , he is six feet and four inches tall already. Any taller, and he would be a tree.”

Batman stays silent, choosing to glare? Stare? Do something that Marinette didn’t know because the white lenses hid his eyes and his facial expression doesn’t change.

.o0o.

The boat drives away, leaving Marinette and Damian with their father.

“You didn’t know about us.” Marinette states. 

“No.” Batman is not known for his eloquence.

“So Mother has made us your responsibility.” Damian snarks, but there is an air of seriousness to it.

“Something like that.”

Marinette squeezes her brother’s hand for reassurance. “This isn’t necessary. We can both do fine by ourselves.” 

“So do I. But things have changed. Your mother thinks that the two of you are better off with me for the time being.”

Damian raises an eyebrow. “What do you think?”

“Better than with the League of Assassins.” Their father replies.

“They taught us how to fight.” Damian says hotly.

“And I take it, not much else.”

“Actually, Father, that is not true.” Marinette jumps in. “In addition to learning many forms of martial arts and how to wield plenty of weapons, Damian and I are years ahead of a normal curriculum and we are both fluent in twenty languages. We can also play multiple instruments. My brother prefers piano and violin, while I tend to favor woodwinds such as the flute and oboe.”

Batman grunts and presses a button on his belt. The Batmobile opens, and the twins follow their father towards it.

“I’ll drive.” Damian says.

“No.” Their father grumbles.

“I know how.”

“No.”

“Can I drive then?” Marinette asks.

“No!”

Once they’re settled in the car, Batman hits the ‘Call’ button for someone named Alfred.

“Alfred.”

_“Yes sir?”_ The butler has an impeccable British accent, much like Marinette and Damian’s. She can put on an American accent at will, but she preferred the sound of the British one. It was more structurally elegant.

“We’re going to have company. Prepare two rooms.”

_“A sleepover? Oh, goody.”_

“Actually, we would like to share a room.” Marinette says. “It would make us feel more comfortable.”

_“I shall prepare a bunk bed then.”_

“We don’t have a bunk bed. Alfred, where-” The call hangs up.

The Batcave is everything Marinette has ever imagined. Dark, yes, but full of state-of-the-art technology, vigilante costumes, and a medbay off to the side. Plus, a lot of bats.

An elderly man greets them when they exit the Batmobile. “Welcome back sir. I presume this is the young man and lady of whom you spoke?”

Damian strides up to the man and tries to stare him down. “Hello, Pennyworth. I’ve heard about you.”

Alfred bows. “At your service, Master Damian and Miss Marinette.”

“Would you prefer it if we called you Alfred, Mister Pennyworth?” Marinette asks.

“If you are comfortable calling me Alfred, then yes, I would prefer it.”

Damian looks around the cave. “Where are the rest of the servants?”

Alred raises an eyebrow. “I am the sum total.”

“You have only one servant?” Her brother says condescendingly to Batman, who looks a little awkward.

Marinette squeezes his hand. “ _Akhi,_ do not be rude. Our father was gracious enough to let us stay, although he did not have to. It would be counterproductive to his nightly activities if there were too many people who knew about it.”

“He’s not a servant.” Batman says. “He’s a friend.”

Marinette smiles at Alfred. “Pleasure to meet you, Alfred, friend of the Dark Knight.” She curtsies with perfect posture, the way she was taught, eliciting a smile from the man.

Damian sniffs and walks over to the Batcomputer. “So this is the fabled Batcave. Grandfather told me all about it.” Her brother sits down in the chair, inspecting the computer, then turns around and folds his hands, looking every bit like their grandfather.

“I, too, have heard about this place, but never from Ra’s or Mother. It was Lady Shiva who informed me instead.”

Damian frowns. “It is not your fault that Grandfather was always disappointed in you. He was… biased against women.”

“Ra’s has been disappointed in me since the day I was born. I do not care for his opinion.” Marinette says easily.

She walks up the stairs to the loft with the vigilante costumes and grimaces. “Father, what is the meaning of these atrocities?”

Batman is nonplussed. “What?”

Marinette gestures to the Robin costumes. “ _This._ Why are they colored like a traffic light? What happened to Gotham’s Dark Knight, the epitome of stealth? Why were your proteges such eyesores? What exactly is the function of a bright yellow cape in the city of darkness?”

“This one does not even have pants.” Damian says tiredly. “Why would one fight criminals without pants?”

“Master Dick was a boy when he wore that.” Alfred says. “As for Master Jason and Master Tim, the Robin colors are now tradition. It is a legacy, the mantle being passed from boy to boy.”

“Never very peacefully though.” Damian comments. “The first Robin became Nightwing after a falling out with you, father. The second one took on the mantle not long after, and when he died, the third one, who found out your identity, essentially blackmailed you into taking him on. When the second Robin came back as Red Hood, he attempted to kill the third Robin on multiple occasions, did he not?”

“ _Akhi!_ _Do you not have any tact? The death of family members is always a sensitive subject!_ ” Marinette hisses, in Icelandic. It is highly unlikely that they will understand it.

“ _You don’t seem too sad about Grandfather’s death,_ _ukhti._ ” Damian retorts. 

“ _Ra’s holds no special place in my heart. He sent me to train with Shiva from birth. You and I may have both grown up fighting, but you were treated like a prince, akhi. I was the lowest of the low. You endured hardships, yes, but you have never died. Nobody dared to kill you in training. I did not have such luxuries._ ”

“Would you like to see where you’ll be sleeping?” Alfred asks. “It is getting late.”

They follow him out of the Batcave and into the Manor.

“Are the others sleeping?” Marinette inquires.

“Hopefully. Master Dick is returning from Bludhaven tomorrow night. Master Jason currently at the Manor, recovering from some fractured ribs, and Master Timothy will likely be out for another six hours after Master Jason sedated him so he could get a full night’s sleep. Miss Cassandra should be asleep as well, though I think she will now be awake from the sound of our voices and our footsteps.”

“Cassandra Cain, correct?” Marinette says thoughtfully. “Daughter of Lady Shiva, Batgirl. A master at reading body language, capable of beating just about anybody in a fight. I was trained to match her, but my skills are nowhere as precise as hers.”

“Yes. Miss Cassandra is very proficient in reading body language. She knows a lot more than she lets on.” Alfred stops in front of a door.

“This will be your room. You will obviously have free run of the Manor, although I would suggest not going into any of the other bedrooms without the occupant’s permission. The door on your left leads to a bathroom, and the door on the right leads to a game room.”

“Thank you, Alfred.” Marinette says, when it is clear that Damian will not be saying anything polite. “If it is alright with you, we would like to be alone now.”

“Of course, Miss Marinette. Goodnight, Miss Marinette, Master Damian.” The door shuts behind him.

Damian immediately gets to work, searching the room for any bugs and finding none. Marinette opens the closet and pulls out two sets of pajamas: one in green and one in lavender. She grabs the lavender ones and lays the green ones out on the bottom bunk for Damian.

“ _Akhi,_ I am going to take a quick shower. It has been far too long since the last one.” 

“I am claiming the bottom bunk, _ukhti._ I will investigate Ubu’s location while you are gone.”

Marinette heads into the massive bathroom and turns on the shower. Hot water comes streaming down immediately, and she marvels at the sight. Damian, being the heir to the Demon’s Head, would be used to it, of course, but as a female, she was seen as far below his status and was treated as such. She didn’t even know she was an al Ghul until after her first death.

Marinette knows that her twin brother was always treated with much more reverence, resulting in much more confidence and arrogance on his part. Damian has been exposed to the Pit, but he has never been killed. When she returned to Nanda Parbat at age nine, Damian was condescending at best. He did not believe her to be worthy of his time, no matter the blood bond between them. Just like Ra’s al Ghul, the man he was trying to grow up to be.

She changed that when Talia ordered them to spar, with Ra’s as a witness. They traded blows for hours, evenly matched, and it became evident that neither would lose unless the other collapsed from exhaustion. Ra’s decided to end the spar, and Marinette left the room tired and sweaty, but satisfied.

Damian was a lot more willing to talk to her after that, and she finally got to bond with her brother, even if he was rude at times.

Ra’s was not so easy to please. Marinette spent the rest of her time at the compound trying, but he would not acknowledge her no matter what she did. She would never be good enough anyway, so Marinette stopped trying. It wasn’t like she couldn’t take on any assassins he tried to send her way. (She killed six in the year she spent at Nanda Parbat.)

She and Damian bonded fairly easily after that. They never slept in the same quarter, but Marinette requested that they be put in the same room at the Manor for a couple reasons. One, so they could have some familiarity in this new city, and two, so they could plan Ubu’s demise without arousing suspicion.

Marinette stares at the mirror as she dries her hair. Tan skin, littered with lighter scars of all shapes and sizes, not noticeable unless one looked for long. Her eyes are the same shade of blue as her father’s, unlike Damian’s piercing green. Her midnight black hair was chopped short for practicality in combat. She slips on the pajamas and heads out of the bathroom.

Damian is sitting on the bottom bunk, clad in the green pajamas with a laptop on his lap. “I found Ubu’s location. He’s also in Gotham.”

“Good.” Marinette says coldly. “That means we can get him ourselves.”

“I shall make sure he dies a painful death.” 

“Only after we get the information, _akhi._ ” 

That was another difference between them. Damian had no qualms about killing. He saw it as the only way to defeat someone in a fight, unless it was a spar. Marinette, while fully capable of ending a life, hated it. She did not kill unless absolutely necessary, or when the rage of the Pit overtook her, which did not happen almost at all. She had gotten a lot better at controlling the madness.

“Ubu does not plan on moving for quite a while. He is certain that he is safe here. We do not have to make a move tonight.” Damian shuts the laptop. “You should sleep, _ukhti._ It has been quite a long day.”

Marinette gives him a small smile. “It has been a long day for you too, _akhi._ We both have to sleep.”

She flips off the lights and climbs up to the top bunk. “Goodnight Damian.”

“Goodnight, Marinette.”

Marinette closes her eyes in the unfamiliar bed and lets the darkness overcome her.


	2. I-II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The twins meet the rest of the Bats.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no update schedule, not really. My first draft is hand-written in a notebook, so I just update whenever I finish copying the next chapter onto a Google doc.

_ “Again.” Shiva’s commanding voice rang through the training room. “Straighten your hind leg to maintain your balance.” _

_ Three year old Marinette obeyed, launching her small body into another series of attacks on the training dummy with her fists. _

_ “Again. Your form was sloppy.” _

_ “Again.” _

_ “Again.” _

_ “Again.” _

_ The pattern continued until she was too exhausted to hold herself up and collapsed. Shiva tutted. “Still weak. I suppose we will have to end there for today. Dismissed.”  _

_ Marinette painstakingly picked herself off the ground and made her way back to her tiny living quarters. _

.o0o.

_ Marinette parried another strike from her trainer, unflinching as the blades clashed millimeters away from her face. Her five year old arms shook with the effort to hold the blade there, and she ducked and rolled when the strain became too much. _

_ She turned just in time to meet another strike before knocking her trainer’s blade to the side and slashing with her own katana. They trade blows back and forth until she sees another woman with auburn hair enter the courtyard, followed by a boy that has her hair and facial features. _

_ The moment of hesitation is enough. Her trainer’s katana slashes across her chest, tearing through her skin and flesh and definitely scraping a lung. The pain is something she has never felt before, and she had already gone through the first round of torture resistance. _

_ It burned, and she couldn’t breathe. The last thing she sees before everything goes black is Lady Shiva’s frown, the boy’s look of mild curiosity, and the concern that flashed through the auburn-haired woman’s eyes before she stuffed it down. _

.o0o.

_ Marinette woke in the sickly green waters of the Lazarus Pit with a new bloodthirsty voice in her head. The first healer that came to check on her was murdered with her bare hands. As was the second, and the third. _

_ It took months to learn to control the voice, the urges to kill. When she realized she had taken another three lives, she cried, but only when she was alone. Crying is a weakness that she could not show. _

_ She returns to her room after another day of training to find the auburn-haired woman from a few months ago sitting on her bed. _

_ The woman introduces herself as Talia al Ghul, and tells Marinette that she is her mother. _

_ Her grandfather is the Demon’s Head, and the boy she saw, her twin brother, Damian, is his heir. _

_ Marinette asks why she is ranked so low if her brother is the Prince. Talia’s eyes harden. _

_ “Ra’s is a fool. He believes that women are not worthy of power, and can do nothing to maintain it. But you will prove him wrong, daughter. I refuse to raise an unworthy child.” _

_ Marinette trains harder after that. _

.o0o.

_ But harder isn’t always enough. _

_ The second time she died, it wasn’t because she was not a capable fighter. _

_ The second round of torture resistance took place a year and a half after her first death. She withstood the pain, only letting out the tiniest whimper in the beginning, which earned her another ten lashes, but in the end, her body gave up from the injuries.  _

_ She bled out, still bound in chains, and woke up in the Pit again, the murderous voice back with a new vengeance. _

_ Marinette accidentally took another life, but she promised herself it wouldn’t happen again. She would gain control of this madness. She would. _

_ She refused to think of what would happen if she didn’t. _

.o0o.

_ When she turns nine, Lady Shiva deems her worthy enough to claim her spot as the Princess of the League, and so she moved into the larger quarters, meant for the family of the Demon’s Head. _

_ Talia was proud, but she did not outwardly express it. Marinette read it in her body, the way she was trained to. _

_ Her twin brother was… distant. He refused to accept a sibling, refused to accept that she can be the Princess while he is the Heir. He acted just like Ra’s, the man he will grow up to replace. _

_ Marinette supposed they saw her as unworthy not only because of her gender, but because of her deaths. She thought that Damian might have died too, had the trainers not been too afraid to kill the Demon’s Heir. She doesn’t point it out. It wouldn’t do her any good. _

_ One month after she moved in, Ra’s demanded that she spar Damian. Talia and Ra’s bore witness to the spar. _

_ Damian drew his katana, scowling at her all the while. Marinette remained unfazed and took her own battle stance opposite him, feeling the comforting weight of her steel war fans in her hands. _

_ They launched at each other at the same time, slashing and parrying and slicing and dodging. Damian gives her a shallow cut on her right cheekbone. Marinette retaliates with a slice on the forehead. The spar goes on for three hours before Ra’s ends it, having seen that there will be no winner. _

_ Ra’s was hard to please. Marinette did pass his judgement for being worthy in battle, but he would never fully accept her the way he did his grandson. That was alright by her. Ra’s was not the kind of person she wished to have the opinion of anyway. _

_ Damian was also a lot more willing to talk to her after that spar, and Marinette finally learned what it was like to have a companion her own age, even if he was a bit arrogant and rude at times. _

.o0o.

Marinette flies awake with a start, and for a moment, she forgets where she is.  _ Wayne Manor. Father. Safe. _

“Good morning,  _ ukhti. _ ” Damian greets, rubbing the last bits of sleep from his eyes. “Did you sleep well?”

Marinette snorts derisively, sliding easily off the top bunk and landing lightly on the floor. “Do I ever,  _ akhi _ ?”

Damian’s face softens. “It is still early. Would you like to spar to get your mind off things?”

“Of course.” Marinette gives her twin a rare smile. “We must change into more suitable clothes first though.”

Ten minutes later, the twins silently creep out of their room and start the hunt for the training room, exploring the Manor as they go. It takes half an hour to find the correct location. Marinette and Damian occupy opposite sides of the sparring mat as they start warming up.

Marinette relishes the pull of her muscles as she stretches, the feeling grounding her into reality. Once they finish, they settle into their fighting positions, each eyeing the other apprehensively.

Damian makes the first move, as the more aggressive of the two. Marinette swiftly dodges his fist and sends a quick kick to his chest. He catches her foot and uses her own momentum to throw her over his shoulder. Marinette twists as she falls, and hits the ground in a perfect three-point landing. She lunges again, and Damian charges forward to meet her in a whirl of fists and kicks, blocks and blows.

At some point, they notice Alfred enter the room, but he merely stands off to the side and watches, so they continue sparring. Not long after, he is followed by a lithe young woman with short black hair, a pale teen who has massive eye bags, and a familiar man with a white streak in his dark hair.

_ Cassandra Cain. Timothy Drake. Jason Todd. Batgirl, Robin, and Red Hood. _ Alfred clears his throat, and both of them part, barely even sweating.

“Is something the matter, Pennyworth?” Damian asks in a snobby tone that makes Marinette want to smack him over the head (didn’t his training ever cover socialization? Hers definitely did, but maybe that’s because she was a female.) so she does so. 

Being treated as a prince from birth certainly inflated his ego. Damian glares, but does not retaliate. Good. He knows he is being rude.

“I wished to inform you that breakfast is ready and the rest of the family wanted to come and meet the two of you.” Alfred says neutrally. 

Cassandra then gives them a friendly smile and a wave, while the boys stay where they are, calculating eyes roving over them. Marinette can’t really judge them for that- she has already scanned all of them for weaknesses too, though there weren’t many.

Damian sniffs. “I do not see why Father chooses to keep these imbeciles around now that he has a blood son and blood daughter.” Marinette smacks him on the head again, because his attitude is getting a little irritating.

“ _ They are not here for you to demean, brother.” _ She hisses in Icelandic. “ _ Father has deemed them family because they have proved themselves worthy. You well treat them with respect, or I will treat you the way you treat them. _ ” Damian grumbles, but thankfully quiets.

Marinette quickly gives the others a small curtsy. “My apologies for my brother. He can be quite abrasive, but he is learning. It is an honor to meet those whom our father considers family.”

Cassandra responds first, patting each of them lightly on the shoulder, making sure to keep her posture relaxed and non-threatening. “Sister. Brother.”

Jason and Damian stare each other down, and Marinette internally sighs.  _ Men and their need to have… what was that phrase I read online? The biggest penis energy? _ Jason breaks the silence. 

“Damian al Ghul. Ibn al Xu’ffasch. Grandson of Ra’s al Ghul, Heir to the Demon’s Head. Never knew you had a sister.”

Damian shifts protective towards Marinette. “I learned of her existence last year.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Timothy frowns. “Grandson of Ra’s al Ghul? As in the grandchildren of the man who is not only obsessed with Bruce, but also the head of the League of  _ Assassins? _ These are assassin children?”

Cassandra frowns, hurt. She points to herself. “Assassin child.”

“I’ve been in the League too, Replacement.” Jason shrugs. 

“No, you don’t understand.” Timothy shakes his head. “These are Ra’s grandchildren, kids that Talia gave birth to after some questionable activities with Bruce. Who’s to say that Ra’s didn’t plant them here as moles? Why should we trust them?”

Marinette feels a pang of hurt against her will. “Ra’s al Ghul may have been my grandfather by blood, but he was never more than any other assassin in the League to me. He was the one who took me away from my brother at birth. He is the reason why I have been died twice and been revived both times by the Lazarus Pit. He is the reason why I only got to meet my twin last year, and you think I would work for him, act as a spy for him, when I finally escape the League to live with my father?”

“Whatever.” Timothy spits. “I still don’t trust you.” He pivots and walks out of the room.

Marinette reads a fear in his body language, but it isn’t fear of their skills, or fear that they might kill him. It’s a fear of being  _ replaced, _ and suddenly, she understands.

“...You don’t plan on betraying us, right?” Jason asks suddenly.

Damian huffs. “Tt. Of course not, Todd. I wish to become Batman one day, and betraying Father’s cause would be extremely counterproductive to my efforts.”

Sometime during their encounter, Alfred had disappeared. Cassandra heads to the exit, and gestures for them to follow. “Come. Breakfast now.”

Timothy does not show while they eat, and neither does Father. Alfred nearly has an aneurysm when he learns that Marinette has never had chocolate (a side effect of being a low-ranked assassin) and immediately starts stuffing chocolate-covered pastries into her hands.

“I insist that you try one.” Alfred says. “You will find it quite delicious.” Marinette obediently takes a bite, and a delightfully rich flavor fills her mouth.

She has never known that food could taste so good, and says as much. Alfred’s pleased face, Damian’s small smile, and Cassandra’s grin make her feel warm inside. Evidently, there is a lot she doesn’t know about the world, but she is excited and willing to learn.

.o0o.

Marinette and Damian carry out their plan after the rest leave for patrol (sans Jason, who was still benched because of his ribs) and believe they are asleep.

They change into the darkest, most flexible clothing they can find in their room and silently slip out of the window after disabling all the alarms. Wayne Manor’s security measures are evaded with some effort, and they are out in the midst of Gotham City in almost no time at all.

Ubu has not tried to hide at all. He is entertaining two women when they burst in, already having disabled the cameras around the area just in case.

“Leave, harlots.” Damian spits at the women, as Marinette charges the much larger man. Her steel fans glint in the light as she slashes.

Ubu does manage to escape the apartment, but the twins easily catch up to him even though he runs through the traffic. The drivers don’t seem very disturbed. It must be a normal occurrence in Gotham, to see a hulking man running from two children with swords and fans.

Damian tackles Ubu, but after a half-hearted attempt at interrogation, in which the man purposefully riles him up, he raises his sword, the angle indicating he intended to kill him.

“ _ Akhi _ , no!” Marinette cries, and she sees a blur of blue and black as her brother is tackled, sword flying out of his grip. She snarls, flicking open her fans and ready to hurt whoever attacked her brother, but stops when she realizes who the man is. “Nightwing.”

Richard Grayson sighs. “The psychos keep getting younger.” 

Damian growls, launching himself at the larger man with a battle cry. The fight lasts about six minutes before Nightwing manages to tie her brother up, hanging from a streetlamp with a gag in his mouth. Marinette was trying to get them to stop all the while, to no avail, and she didn’t want to step in for fear of hurting either brother.

Nightwing turns to her. “Do I need to tie you up the hard way too?”

Marinette rolls her eyes. “Thank you for finally acknowledging my existence. If you had actually listened, Nightwing, you would know that your offer is not necessary. My name is Marinette. My twin is Damian, and we are Bruce Wayne’s biological children. Hello, older brother.”


	3. I-III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darkseid happens, and the family struggles with the aftermath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again, I am not very familiar with the comics, but the event that this chapter focuses on is from the comics. My apologies for any mistakes!

“Why are you letting them stay? He tried to _kill_ Dick!” Timothy points at Damian, who glowers at him from across the cave as Alfred stitches Richard’s cuts.

Marinette sighs. “ _Akhi_ was not trying to murder Richard. If you paid more attention, you would notice that all of Richard’s wounds are carefully placed in non-lethal areas meant to slow him down instead of severely injuring him.”

Batman does not say a word. He hasn’t spoken since Richard called him to verify their claims.

“They were raised as assassins, Timmy. It’s normal that they’d feel threatened a lot, and act accordingly. They’re family now. Give them a chance.” Richard replies, and Marinette blinks. She did not expect to have Richard defend them so easily.

“Pardon me,” She pipes up. “But ‘they’ are currently present.”

“Right. Sorry.” Richard has the sense to look guilty. Timothy just glares.

Damian squeezes her hand three times, their signal for _I would like to leave._ Marinette sighs as she exits the Batcave. Being accepted into the family is… a work in progress.

.o0o.

Slade is put into Blackgate not long after with the information Ubu gave after being interrogated by the Bats. Damian and Marinette were not allowed to go. 

_Too young,_ Richard had said. They had interpreted that as _You cannot be trusted to keep him alive._ He did make the right call though. Damian would have tried extremely hard had he gotten the chance.

Of course, the League did dispose of him not long after anyway, but it was the thought that counted.

Damian and Marinette spent their days in the Manor sparring, reading, or practicing their instruments. Richard, who seemed determined to bond with them, bought them both new sketchbooks, for Damian’s drawings and Marinette’s designs. She had discovered an affinity for clothing design while undercover on a mission, and had been designing ever since.

Cass (she insisted that they call her that instead of Cassandra,) was always happy to spar when asked, and although nobody ever defeated her, it was a welcomed challenge to fight someone who knew your every move, sometimes even before you did. Damian grudgingly admits she is a worthy sister, which makes Marinette smile and Cass beam.

Jason had his own home and only visited every once in a while, and Timothy was rarely seen. It didn’t help that Damian continued to make snarky comments whenever they did see him, but if Timothy was scarce, Father was practically nonexistent.

Since they came to the Manor, their father has said a total of two words to the both of them, and that was just their names when he exited his study as they passed by.

Marinette is determined to make her new family work, and so when she finds Timothy completely by accident, typing away on a laptop in one of the less-used rooms in the Manor, she takes a chance.

“You do know we are not trying to replace you, right?” She asks softly, sitting down in an armchair and deliberately not making eye contact with him. 

Timothy snorts. “But is that not what you’re doing? Bruce chose to take in everyone else. I had to _blackmail_ him into letting me be Robin. And then the biological kids show up, born and raised like fucking royalty, so who would care about Tim Drake? The little kid whose parents didn’t even want him and his neighbor only adopted him because he knew his most well-kept secret.”

“We have more in common than you think.” Marinette says quietly.

“Yeah, right.” Timothy laughs bitterly. “The Princess of the League-”

“I wasn’t.” Marinette interrupts.

“Huh? But-”

“I wasn’t the Princess.” Marinette keeps her voice calm with considerable effort. “As soon as I was born, Ra’s gave me over to Lady Shiva. He declared me unworthy because I was a girl, and I was raised as the lowest-ranked assassin. I may have been Shiva’s protege, but that just meant she went even harder on me. I did not know even my last name until after my first death when I was five. I did not properly meet my brother until last year. Ra’s decided that I could be acknowledged, but maintained his stance on feminine inferiority.”

She chuckles hollowly. “You fear being replaced by your father figure’s biological children, Timothy. But your fear is unwarranted. Bruce Wayne chose to adopt you, because he is a good man with copious amounts of generosity. However, it evidently does not extend to his biological children. Talia dumped us at Batman’s feet and left without another word, without looking back. And Father? We may have been a complete surprise, but he has said two words in total to us since that first night- our _names._ You need not worry, Timothy. You shall not be replaced.”

Marinette stands, her message conveyed, and pauses in the doorway of the room. 

“Have a good afternoon, Timothy.”

The next day, Marinette and Damian watch on live television as their father is killed by Darkseid.

.o0o.

The funeral for Batman is somber. Everyone cries except for Marinette and Damian.

She thinks they should be crying, but Marinette simply didn’t know her father well enough to really mourn him. Damian squeezes her hand, and she squeezes back. The twins stand, faces carefully blank, shoulders straight and unmoving, like rocks in an ocean of tears.

Crime in Gotham runs rampant when they think Batman is gone, and so Richard becomes Batman out of necessity- and chooses her twin brother as his Robin.

Nobody else sees how it crushes Timothy, because Cass has left for Hong Kong, abandoning Batgirl and making her own identity as Black Bat. Jason is holed up in a safehouse somewhere, Richard and Damian are in their own little world as they prepare for their first patrol together, and Alfred needs time to mourn too.

So she finds herself knocking on the door to Timothy’s room, one hand holding a plate of sandwiches and a freshly brewed coffee because he hasn’t left his room since the funeral. Marinette quietly enters upon his muffled “Come in” and sets the plate down next to Timothy, whose eyes are red-rimmed and have even larger bags than normal, and yet he continues to work.

“I… noticed you have not come out to eat, so I brought some food and fresh coffee. Black.” She adds, after a moment of hesitation.

“Thanks.” Timothy mumbles, immediately going for the coffee. “Why are you doing this?”

Marinette shrugs. “Everyone else was caught up in their own situation and had issues to work through too. I am relatively unaffected by the circumstances and therefore my observation skills have not declined.” She says simply. “You should also eat. I will not stop you from drinking the coffee, but you cannot work on an empty stomach, either.”

He begrudgingly eats a sandwich, still typing away at his laptop all the while. Marinette notes the tension in his frame.

“Would you like to talk about it? I have read that venting is significantly better for one’s mental health than keeping it bottled up.” She offers.

Timothy suddenly slams the laptop shut, hard, but Marinette doesn’t flinch. The reaction was trained out of her a long time ago. 

“It’s not- it’s- my entire life, I’ve been trying to prove myself. Robin was- Robin was special. I wasn’t the first Robin, but it was a reminder that I was worth something to someone, that I could do good and be useful. And then Bruce dies, Dick becomes Batman, and he just names Damian as his Robin like my opinion on the matter meant nothing, booting me out of the position, without any semblance of an explanation and-” He breaks off into sobs.

The sight of somebody crying makes Marinette more than a little awkward, because _what is she doing?_ She doesn’t know how to comfort a crying person, but she does know that Timothy was touch-starved as a child. However, she isn’t the most touchy-feely person on the planet either, so she just settles for rubbing his back as he lets it all out.

Once he’s run out of tears, she silently hands him the tissue box she plucked from his desk. 

“Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne, you are not worthless.” Marinette says sternly. “Nobody is worthless, and you are far from being anywhere near so. You are the cleverest and most intelligent of us all, a capable, quick-thinking strategist, and you have detective skills that rivaled Father’s. I believe Richard chose Damian as Robin because Robin is always supposed to be Batman’s sidekick. He is always taken under Batman’s wing because there are things he hasn’t learned, that Batman can teach him. Richard sees you as an equal, and therefore cannot keep you as his Robin because you have graduated the mantle. It is time you created a new identity and moved on. Do you have anything in mind?”

Timothy sniffs once. “Thank you. I really needed that. And as for the ideas,” He reaches over and pulls out a sketchbook, a smile spreading across his face. “I’ve got a few.”

.o0o.

They brainstorm ideas for almost three hours before Timothy falls asleep. Marinette easily carries his light frame to his bed and drapes a blanket over his shoulders before quietly exiting his room.

Thankfully, she managed to convince Timothy that the cowl was a terrible idea. Marinette returns to her own room for her sketchbook. Batman and Robin will have each other’s backs. But Red Hood works alone, leaving Red Robin with nobody to watch his back.

Timothy is Marinette’s brother too, and everyone else is headed into the field anyway. She, like Damian, also had the phrase ‘justice, not vengeance’ drilled into her head, and Richard had made sure to remind them daily to aim for non-lethal spots. Not that she planned on taking a life ever again anyway.

Marinette flips open her sketchbook to a bookmarked page and smiles. It seems that Starling would be making an appearance very soon.

.o0o.

It is almost time for Richard and Damian’s first patrol as Batman and Robin. Marinette heads downstairs to wish them well, but freezes at the sight of her twin in Timothy’s old suit.

“This is unacceptable!” She screeches, hurrying forward and looking pleadingly at Richard. “You cannot let _akhi_ out into Gotham looking like a traffic light!”

Richard frowns, as does Damian. “But you never had a problem with Tim wearing it.”

“Tt. Timothy had little to no prior experience in combat before being trained as Robin. Damian has been trained to utilize the shadows in combat since birth. Wearing those bright colors will make him stand out and put him at a disadvantage.” Marinette tuts, already scribbling out a new design in her sketchbook.

“Then what do you suggest, _ukhti?_ ” Damian asks.

“I have a design in mind. The colors will stay, but the yellow and green will have to be significantly darker, and the red should be dulled as well. Sadly, you will have to wear that monstrosity tonight, but I can have the suit finished in time for patrol tomorrow, as will mine and Timothy’s new suits.” She replies, not glancing up from her book.

“What do you mean, Marinette?” Richard questions, and Marinette feels a tiny twinge of annoyance at how he handled telling Timothy about Robin.

“I mean that Timothy and I have crafted new identities as well. You did not expect him to just stop fighting crime, or for me to just sit at home while everyone else carried out Father’s mission, did you?”

Damian nods, a small smile pulling at his lips. “It will be nice to see you in the field too, _ukhti._ ”

“What will your names be?” Richard prods curiously.

“I will not tell you just yet.” Marinette smirks. She shows her twin the finished design. “Does this look alright, _akhi_?”

“It looks wonderful, _ukhti._ ” Damian replies. “Thank you.”

She sniffs. “Well, _somebody_ had to fix the lack of fashion sense in this household eventually.”

.o0o.

Everyone else in the family may use capes, but Marinette decided that Richard’s Nightwing suit was by far the best because of its lack of one. Capes were long, heavy, a waste of fabric, and overall useless.

The Starling suit was primarily black, with a dark emerald mask covering the lower half of her face (because why carry a gas mask and rebreather when it can be built in?) with gloves and boots in the same color. A single silver star with curved sides was splayed on her chest, and a dark green utility belt rested on her waist. Her steel war fans had holsters strapped to her thighs, and twin katanas were strapped to her back in an ‘X’, because sometimes, fans weren’t enough, and they were always good backup.

All in all, the suit was built for the shadows. Marinette had learned to master slipping through the dark, unseen, and Gotham was the perfect place to utilize that. Starling would be nothing more than a ghost, a legend, if she had her way. After all, the less citizens knew, the less likely the information would hit the underworld, and that way, the vigilantes wouldn’t have all their cards out in the open.

Damian looks much better in his new suit as well, and Timothy is also grinning when he steps out of the male’s changing room. **(A/N: the new 52 suit. I’m not letting him out of the Cave with that ugly cowl, or the traffic light costume with an extra R. Don’t even get me started on the Drake one.)**

Richard, cowl still down, smiles as bright as the sun itself. “Good to see you, Robin. Tim, Marinette, can I ask your names?”

Timothy fastens his domino. “Red Robin.”

Marinette pulls her face mask up and curtsies with perfect posture. “Starling. I wish to work in the shadows, if that is alright.”

Richard puts on the cowl and becomes Batman. “You guys all look amazing.” He grins, and it is unsettling to see Batman smile. Oracle logs into the comms from the Clocktower.

“You all ready?”

They split the city in half. Red Robin and Starling take the North while Batman & Robin will cover the South. 

Starling trails Red Robin from afar, leaping from building to building and only using her grappling hook when the distance is too great to close by foot. They stop four muggings and two attempted assaults, all without Starling being spotted. The criminals think they hit their head on the alley walls or each other instead of her fist from behind.

It’s almost three in the morning when Batman calls it quits and they return to the Cave, changing out of their suits and showering. They are somehow all unharmed, so Alfred sends them up to bed.

Damian and Marinette brush their teeth before climbing into bed and flipping off the lights.

“Tonight was actually quite enjoyable.” Marinette remarks. “It is a nice feeling, to know that you are helping people.”

Damian hums sleepily. “It is good to know that we are continuing Father’s legacy.”

Marinette smiles. “Yes, I suppose so.” She burrows deeper into her blankets. “Sleep well, _akhi._ ”

“The same goes for you, _uhkti._ ”

For once, Marinette doesn’t have a nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh wow I really hate writing crying people. People crying make me cringe because I don't know what to do. Writing people crying also makes me cringe because I don't know how to write it.
> 
> Also, click [here](https://m3owww.tumblr.com/post/625462874496778241/when-did-i-get-100-followers-i-was-literally-at) to see a doodle of Starling I drew! I would have embedded the image, but I can't work technology and couldn't figure it out :(


	4. I-IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> family bonding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the last chapter in the first arc!
> 
> edit (10.30.20): there's now music you can listen to to help set the mood! click the link on the first word and keep it playing in the background as you read!

[“Bruce](https://youtu.be/5QmOHTO9ojU) is alive.”

Marinette sits attentively through Timothy’s explanation, which, while a bit odd, is nothing that far out of the ordinary, considering the things the Justice League has fought, the existence of magic, and the Lazarus Pits.

However, everyone else seems to think otherwise, and all of them are convinced that Timothy is having trouble moving on from Father’s death. Timothy leaves the room, angry but determined, and Marinette follows.

“What, are you here to tell me how stupid my theory is too?” Timothy grumbles when she slips into his room.

“Actually, I think your theory is very plausible.” Marinette says. “You will be searching for Father anyway, with or without everyone’s help, will you not? I shall help you pack.”

“...Do you want to come with me?” Timothy asks, as Marinette starts rummaging through the mess he calls a room.

She looks at him apologetically. “Richard is swamped with responsibility now that Father is absent, and so is Alfred. Alfred is more or less used to it, but Richard will burn himself out trying to keep the family functional. I must stay to help. I truly am sorry, Timothy. We should keep in contact, but I cannot come with you.”

“Okay. That’s fine.” Timothy mumbles. Marinette doesn’t need to look at him to know he is terrified of what comes next, but she also thinks Timothy will need this time to figure himself out, as well as find their father.

“Would you like a hug?” She asks quietly. Marinette has grown to trust Timothy over the last few weeks. She has faith that, unlike her instructors, he will not hurt her, because he is family.

Timothy frowns. “You and Damian both detest hugs.”

Marinette’s lips quirk upwards. “You are family. Family is an exception.”

Timothy’s arms wrap around her, and Marinette returns the gesture, somewhat awkwardly. Hugs _are_ kind of nice, she supposes, but only from the right people.

Timothy leaves two days later to pursue the trail Father has left throughout history.

Marinette churns out design after design after design, creating a whole new wardrobe for herself, Damian, and numerous clothing items for Richard too, who is looking more and more exhausted by the day. Damian also expresses his concerns for the man’s health, but Richard always waves it off.

Starling trails Batman and Robin instead. Batman grows sloppier by the night, and Richard stumbles into the kitchen in the morning with eye bags to rival Timothy’s before chugging a large coffee with too many espresso shots and attending several company meetings in a row.

Three weeks after Timothy leaves, Marinette and Damian hatch a plot with Alfred to sedate Richard. It works beautifully, and though he is a bit irritated at them, he has to admit it is the longest he’s slept since Father’s ‘death’.

They video call Cass weekly to check in. Marinette tracks down Jason and convinces him to come to dinner once a week. She asks the same of Barbara, because Richard perks up more when she is around. Marinette still calls Timothy whenever possible, though any mention of talking to the others wipes the smile off his face. That is understandable, given the circumstances. Her family is starting to come together.

Damian switches from ‘Grayson’ and ‘Cain’ to ‘Richard’ and ‘Cassandra.’ Richard tries to get them to call him Dick. They both grimace. 

“I am not calling you a slang word for male genitals!” Marinette protests, and her twin agrees.

Two months after Darkseid, Marinette calls Richard ‘ _frate’._ It accidentally slips out when he brings her a mug of Alfred’s hot chocolate while she is designing. His tired face lights up when she calls him brother in his native Romani, and she doesn’t even try to escape the hug this time.

Damian sometimes wakes up screaming. On those nights, Marinette will climb off the top bunk and hold him tight until he calms down. Sometimes, it’s the other way around, but they are always there for each other.

Two and a half months after Darkseid marks the first time she calls Alfred ‘Grandfather.’ Marinette does this very deliberately, having considered what role Alfred takes in her life. He was most certainly a grandfather figure to her, and would always be more of a grandfather than Ra’s ever was. Marinette sees him wipe a tear away out of the corner of her eye.

The first time she calls Tim ‘ _frère_ ’, it is three months into his hunt for Father. French was the first language Tim picked up after English. He just smiles and continues discussing his newest lead.

Another month later, Cass becomes ‘ _jiejie’_ and Jason becomes _‘hermano’._ Marinette adds ‘ _meimei_ ’ and ‘Pixie’ to her ever-growing reservoir of nicknames, along with ‘Mari’, ‘Nettie’, ‘ _ukhti_ ’, ‘little star’, ‘ _soră_ ’, and a few others.

Barbara becomes Babs when she teaches Marinette how to easily surpass firewalls she previously struggled with. She also takes her and Damian to many places around Gotham in order to give Richard a break from looking after them, because they are a handful, no matter how much they try not to be.

Five months after Batman disappears, Damian and Marinette turn eleven. Somehow, the family finds out even though they never told anyone their birth date and throws them a party.

Alfred bakes a delicious chocolate cake. Marinette receives a book of puns from Richard, a dagger from Jason, a pen drive with an immense amount of storage that also functioned as a taser and flashlight from Babs, and a new sketchbook from Alfred.

Tim and Cass send their presents, a book on formal clothing designs by French designer Gabriel Agreste, and a cat-themed stationery set, in the mail.

Damian and Marinette exchange gifts in private. She gives her brother a knitted plush tiger, while he gives Marinette a beautiful drawing of her training in the cave, fans glinting in the light as she goes through her motions.

Eight months after Batman is lost, he returns.

.o0o.

Tim comes back to Gotham tired, worn, and missing his spleen, but accompanied by Father. Everyone else immediately rushes forward and hugs the man, some crying, but Marinette and Damian stand awkwardly off to the side as they reunite. They haven’t forgotten Bruce’s frosty demeanor towards them from before.

But then Father sees them and opens his arms wider. “Damian. Marinette. My children.” And they join the large pile too, buried in their family’s warm embrace, and Marinette knows everything is going to be just fine.

Cass arrives from Hong Kong the next morning, shedding silent tears as she hugs them all, one by one, and Jason even stays overnight without an injury as an excuse.

Nightwing hits the streets again, with his cheerful attitude and showy acrobatics and never-ending supply of puns. Red Hood is seen assisting Batman, scowl permanently in place, with a drug case. Black Bat glides through the night, a silent shadow, and Robin makes a few B-list rogues wet their pants when he draws his katana with a dangerous smile. Red Robin soars over Gotham’s streets with the wings hidden in what looks like a regular cape, and if you actually saw the ghost that was rumoured to be named Starling, it was far too late to run.

Oracle, all knowing, watches everything from the eyes she has all over the city, and Agent A patiently waits for them to return after a long night, medical supplies at hand for when they inevitably get hurt.

This is her family, Starling thinks as she leaps onto the roof of Wayne Enterprises, where the others are already waiting with takeout Nightwing obtained from their favorite place. She wouldn’t change it for the world.


	5. II-I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the twins meet a friend, get introduced to society, and go to... school.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a bit of fluff! before I become evil...
> 
> I have some (updated) concept art on my tumblr that you can find [here](https://m3owww.tumblr.com/post/625473940291223552/i-just-realized-i-forgot-to-post-the-variation-i)!
> 
> edit (10.30.20): I've added music that will help set the mood! click the link before the first word to open the youtube video, then keep it playing in the background as you read!

[“Damian](https://youtu.be/Ug7h6Wqjck0), Marinette, I want you to meet my friend Clark. This is his son, Jon.”

Marinette smiles mischievously. “Pleasure to meet you, Superman, Superboy.”

Their blue eyes widen simultaneously. “Wha-how did you-”

Damian huffs. “Was it not obvious? Bruce Wayne, otherwise known as Batman, who just happens to have a friend from Metropolis who is also roughly the same build as Superman and also happens to be a journalist known for his Superman interviews and has a son the same size and build as Superboy?”

“Plus, the glasses are a terrible disguise.” Marinette adds.

Their father smirks. “Clark, you owe me twenty bucks.”

The man grumbles as he hands over the money. “You had to insult the glasses.”

“I am a fashion designer. It is what I do. For example, who let you out to fight crime in a hoodie and jeans?” She whirls on Jon, who winces.

“I thought it was a cool look…”

“Absolutely not. I redesigned the Robin costume and convinced Tim to ditch the cowl, I can fix yours.” She grabs Jon by the wrist, dragging him towards the sewing room adjacent to the bedroom she shared with Damian, who trailed not far behind. “We are fixing this. I need your measurements. _Akhi_ , you will assist me.”

Jon looks helplessly at Damian, who only smirks. “ _Ukhti_ is an unstoppable force in her designing mode. It is best you play along.”

.o0o.

Jonathan Samuel Kent was interesting, to say the least.

He had dark hair and radioactive blue eyes just like his father, but had Lois Lane’s nose, chin, and cheekbones. He sported an identical pair of fake glasses to (poorly, in Marinette’s opinion) conceal his identity. Jon was surprisingly innocent, given his… extracurriculars, but then she remembered that he lived in _Metropolis_ , which was very different from Gotham.

Jon leaves Wayne Manor that day with two new friends and a new suit design. Two days later, his new suit appears on his doorstep, with a note from Marinette.

_Jonathan-_

_Enclosed is your completed suit. I wish to see you wearing this next time you are out, and not that ridiculous hoodie and jeans._

_Marinette Wayne_

_P.S. Please, try to convince your father to get rid of the red underwear he wears on the outside of his suit. It makes me want to break into Father’s vault of kryptonite and eviscerate him._

.o0o.

Robin becomes a Teen Titan. Batman asks if Starling would like to join too, but she declines. The Titans are a fairly public group, and Starling is more or less still a myth. She doesn’t want to confirm her own existence just yet.

Plus, Superboy, also at eleven years old, was not allowed to join. Clark and Lois deemed him ‘too young’ and informed him that he could join when he turned thirteen. Starling patrols with Superboy in Metropolis using the zeta tubes when Robin spends the night with the Titans instead.

She meets the Titans once, not long after she turns twelve. They needed someone with her skill set for a covert mission, and Robin volunteered her. (Thanks, _akhi._ )

Starling zetas to the Tower in Jump City, and is introduced to Starfire, the den mother of sorts, Blue Beetle, Beast Boy, and Raven. They know that Damian is Robin, and so Marinette takes her mask off and introduces herself again. She and her brother won’t be formally introduced into society until the Gala next week, but since the group already knows Richard is Nightwing, it was plenty obvious that she and Damian are also Waynes.

She sneaks into the designated location with little fanfare, moving as fluidly as the shadows themselves. Once Starling takes out the perimeter guards, she lets the other Titans in, and the battle is over in forty-five minutes.

Again, they offer her a position on the team. Again, she declines. Marinette already has a team- her family. They work in the shadows, like her. The Titans are too bright, too flashy. She is fine where she is.

.o0o.

The annual end-of-summer Wayne Gala is when Father formally introduces Marinette and Damian into society. Marinette wears a simple white mask that covers her upper face. Being the focus of the media was sadly unavoidable, but at least they would not know her face.

They are observed and cooed at all night, and Marinette has to stop her twin from biting someone’s hand no less than six times, because they kept on trying to squish his cheeks. A few people compliment her dress and ask about the brand, which makes her smile. They are all shocked when she tells them that she designed it herself. 

Father enrolls them at Gotham Academy, for the seventh grade.

He agrees that they could easily excel as seniors, but insists that they stay with their age group.

“You are going to school to learn to socialize and make friends.”

Damian tuts, and Marinette frowns. “A considerable portion of my League training involved learning how to properly talk to different people. I believe I have adequate social skills for my age, and I _do_ have a best friend, Father.”

“ _Normal_ friends.” Father sighs.

Damian rolls his eyes. “With all due respect, Father, I do not believe it is possible for us to have normal friends. We would be putting on a facade, and anyone who knows our identities as vigilantes anyway is not normal at all.”

Father pinches the bridge of his nose. “The experience will enlighten you.”

And so the Wayne twins enter Gotham Academy. For the mandated foreign language course, Marinette chooses French while Damian takes Spanish. They can also pick two electives of their choosing. Marinette takes Fashion Design while Damian chooses Art, and both take Orchestra as their second elective. They share all their other classes.

Marinette keeps a mask similar to the one she wore at the Gala on at all times, and the staff at GA let her- probably because of her father’s influence. 

People stare as they walk by. Some try to approach, but they are always looking to use them to boost their own popularity. Their body language says it all, and the twins dual wield the trademarked BatGlare until they leave, terrified. 

By the end of the week, they have established a reputation as the Ice Prince and Princess.

Jon snorts milk out of his nose when Marinette informs him of that bit of information.

“The Ice Prince? Ice Princess? Are we talking about the boy who killed a spider with his katana when it scared him? The girl who smacked her sketchbook into the doorframe and said ‘ouch?’ How in the world did you guys manage that?”

“I will eviscerate you, Kent.” Damian grumbles. “Father does have a large supply of Kryptonite, you know.”

Three months into the school year, they start the fencing unit in Physical Education. Damian and Marinette immediately pair off (not that anyone tried to partner with them) and lunge at each other with a ferocity and speed others couldn’t even dream of. Of course, they were top of their class in every other unit as well, but this was as close as they would get to actual sword fighting. They intended to enjoy it.

Marinette is sent to the principal’s office once in history for constantly correcting the teacher. Damian applauds her efforts, and proceeds to berate the same teacher once she is gone and gets sent to the principal as well.

The night of the Winter Concert, the orchestra’s first chair French horn player is out sick. None of the other horns knew the seventy bar solo well enough, except for Marinette. She set down her clarinet, walked over to the spare instrument locker, assembled the brass instrument, and successfully filled in for the player without missing a single note. Damian takes her place in the clarinet section instead. One violin missing from the sea of them would not be noticed.

Jon listens in the audience along with their family, and all of them go to BatBurger afterwards to celebrate (as vigilantes. The Waynes should not be seen in a fast food establishment, especially not at night in Gotham.)

The cashier does a double take when they walk in, which makes a few of them snicker. Starling’s existence has now been confirmed, but that’s alright. Tonight is for celebration. It was about time anyway. (She does put on the domino mask she carries everywhere though. You can’t eat with a face mask that covers your mouth.

Nightwing screeches when he realizes that Robin and Starling also eat their burgers with forks and knives. “It’s been _two years!_ How did I not notice?”

Starling tries eating with her hands. It’s greasy, but fairly manageable. “I prefer the utensils, but this will help me blend in, I suppose.” She remarks.

Superboy opens his Bat-Meal and squeals when he gets a Robin toy, which makes said vigilante preen. There isn’t a Starling toy yet. No one has really seen her well enough to make one.

Black Bat leans over and steals one of her fries. Starling takes a sip of her strawberry milkshake in return. Red Hood, inspired, takes a bit of Red Robin’s untouched burger. The tired vigilante just shrugs, taking another sip of his ever-present coffee.

To everyone’s surprise, Batman snatches a handful of Nightwing’s fries, eliciting a food war. Batman calls it off as soon as the condiments start flying though.

“Don’t get your suits dirty.”

Starling and Robin wear identical smirks. “No promises.” They chorus as one, before Starling takes Red Hood’s burger, Robin snatches Batman’s milkshake, and they run.

They swing through the night, laughing quietly as the wind blows against their faces. The sounds of their family giving chase can be heard a few moments later, and Superboy easily catches up with his superspeed. He helps them evade the other Bats in a city-wide game of Manhunt.

Eventually, they do patrol the city properly, but Marinette will always remember this as one of the best nights of her life.

The calm before the storm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *evil laughter intensifies*


	6. II-II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette means 'one who rises.' She is knocked down, hard. Will she rise?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the angst train is here! prepare to be hit by it the way Peter Parker is in Spiderman: Far From Home!
> 
> as I said on my tumblr, some people cry while writing sad scenes. Me? I smile or outright cackle while imagining the looks on your faces when I crush your souls underneath my feet. I relish in my reader's pain. I have no soul like that. :)
> 
> Warning: blood, violence, death. I don't think it's very graphic, but I have no filter so...
> 
> edit (10.30.20): there's mood setting music now! click the link embedded in one of the words and let the video play in the background as you read!

Talia arrives to take the twins back, with an aged-up clone of Damian at her beck and call. It is a testament to how much Marinette really means to her mother that there is no clone of her.

Damian and Marinette refuse. They are done with the League’s ways. They don’t want to kill (not that Marinette ever did) and prefer their father’s methods. Their family stands by them, willing to fight if necessary.

It is full-out war.

Even when faced with assassins now trying to kill them (Marinette was disposable since she wasn’t a suitable heir, Damian was now disposable since Talia could make clones of him to be the heir instead. Why keep them alive when they’ve betrayed their purpose?), Starling finds herself using the non-lethal moves her family has taught her as she ducks and rolls and slashes with her fans, then switching to her katanas for a longer range.

More and more assassins are falling. Starling engages her mother in combat, and Black Bat joins in, which brings a tiny sliver of fear to Talia’s eyes. Cassandra Cain was groomed from birth to be the perfect assassin, and was unbeatable for even the top League members. She knows this, and she is rightfully scared. _Good._

“Marinette. You are a disappointment.” Talia hisses as they fight. Once, in a time where Talia was the only one who believed in Marinette, in her own twisted way, those words would have hurt more than an injury ever could. Now, she is far beyond seeking her mother’s praise.

Starling’s eyes flare green for a moment. “You assume that I wish to be valued by the League, Talia. I would prefer to be a disappointment to you. It would mean that I am some semblance of a good person.”

They are pushing the assassins back, they are winning, and then [Robin’s](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yTxhB1TE1xA&list=PLOeC4ZXHIpfdarAUybRk5UvAdA4Tu1nx9&index=2) shriek of pain pierces the air.

Starling turns in time to see the Heretic, Damian’s adult clone, pull his blade out of her brother’s chest with a sickening grin. Robin is dead before he hits the ground, and she lets out a furious scream in tandem with her father and family before the Lazarus Pit takes over.

She launches herself at Heretic, picking up her twin’s fallen katana on the way and battling the clone with all the brutality of someone on the verge of madness. Everything is tinted that sickly shade of green, and she takes a satisfaction in every hit she lands on the Heretic’s body, until-

_Shink._

Heretic’s head falls to the ground, severed from its body, which slumps to the floor a moment later.

Starling returns to herself standing over a headless body, holding her brother’s bloody blade. Somewhere deep down, her mind whispers that she broke her Father’s rule, that she killed a man for the first time in years. 

The rest of her doesn’t regret it. Damian is dead. Her twin brother is dead, and she would break all the rule in the world if it meant avenging his death.

_Justice, not vengeance._ That little corner of her mind reminds. _What you just did was vengeance._

Seven people left the Batcave that day, alive. Only six return, the eldest carrying his son’s body, with shattered souls and broken hearts and crushing grief.

.o0o.

Marinette moves to a guest room that night, but she doesn’t sleep. When she walks into the kitchen, it is evident that nobody else has, either. Alfred hands her a mug of hot chocolate, and she sandwiches herself in between Cass and Tim. All of their eyes are red-rimmed, and Marinette wants to cry again, but her tear ducts have already been drained dry. 

_It cannot be real,_ a part of her insists. _Damian cannot be gone. He is too strong, too well-trained._ But his absence from the table when the rest of the family is present says otherwise.

When the sun rises, and the city starts to awaken, Marinette gathers up her remaining strength and calls Jon.

He is there almost instantly, holding her as she breaks down all over again in a guest room instead of her own, because she thinks of him every time she passes. Jon cries his own tears, and they end up spending the entire day crying and mourning the loss of their shared best friend. 

That night, they have a sleepover, both wanting to bask in the comfort of each other’s presence. Twice, Marinette wakes up screaming, eyes flashing green. Both times, Jon is there. 

Eventually, he has to return to Metropolis, and she is left with the aching void in her heart once more.

.o0o.

She doesn’t remember much of the funeral. Only that it was raining, she was wearing a black dress he helped her design, and everyone was crying, but no one could tell their tears from the ones the sky shed.

.o0o.

Marinette isn’t sure how much longer she can stand to live in this home, this city, even. She is followed, haunted, by a ghost, finding evidence of Damian’s existence everywhere but never finding her brother himself. She promises herself to last until her thirteenth birthday. Damian died a week before it took place.

Marinette descends to the Cave, where Father is sitting at the Batcomputer, as he normally is now. Everyone in this family mourns by throwing themselves into work. She is no different.

“Father.” She says carefully. What she is about to propose may not be taken well.

Batman turns. “Marinette. How are you doing?” His costume is menacing, but his aura is gentle.

“I wish to leave Gotham.” Marinette is blunt and to the point. “This city holds too many memories. I would like to start over.”

“That is… understandable.” Father finally says. “Do you have anything in mind?” Everyone in the family agreed that Batman was emotionally constipated, but in this case, it is helpful. Marinette isn’t sure she could refrain from crying again if Richard had been here instead.

She hands him a file. “Sabine Cheng. Sister to Sandra Wu-San, otherwise known as Lady Shiva. Reformed assassin, currently married to Tom Dupain, a baker. Owns and lives above a popular bakery in Paris, the Tom & Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie, located right next to Collége et Lycée Francois Dupont, one of the top schools in the city. I have already contacted her, and she has agreed to host me for as long as I need, provided I help out in the bakery.”

Batman nods approvingly. “Civilian cover?”

“The name Marinette has French origins, so I will continue to go by that name while adopting the last name ‘Cheng’. Born in Gotham, but came to live with her aunt and uncle to study in Paris instead, because Paris is the fashion capital of the world and I would like to be a designer someday. I already have all the necessary paperwork forged and a flight booked for August 10th.”

Another reason she chose to keep her first name: Talia named her Marinette because it means ‘one who rises.’ She had been knocked down, hard, this time, but Marinette knows she will always rise up again, eventually. She always had, in the past. This blow was substantially larger, but she will mourn her brother, and one day, she will move on.

“If this is what you need, I won’t stop you.” Batman says. Marinette cracks a tiny smile for the first time since Damian’s death.

“Thank you, _baba._ ”

Marinette exits the Cave feeling a little bit lighter, and knows she is on the path to getting up again.

.o0o.

Saying her goodbyes is the hardest part. 

Richard hugs her, sobbing, and nearly crushes her in his embrace. “You’ll keep in touch, right?”

Marinette gently pats his back. “Of course, _frate._ I promise.”

Jason ruffles her hair. “If any assholes bother you, punch ‘em in the balls.”

One side of her mouth quirks up in a smile. “Noted.”

Cass kisses her forehead, looking at her with sad brown eyes. “Be safe, _meimei._ ”  
  


“I will, _jiejie._ ” Marinette smiles again.

Tim gies her a burner phone, with all the necessary contacts programmed in. “Just in case.”

She tucks it into her carry-on bag. “Thank you, _frère._ ”

Alfred wishes her a safe flight, and then it is her father’s turn. They look at each other for a long moment before Marinette finally gathers up her courage to hug him.

“Thank you, Father. Be careful.”

“The same goes for you, Marinette. Just because you won’t be a vigilante doesn’t mean you can’t get hurt.” He replies.

“I will do my utmost to stay out of trouble.” Marinette promises.

Marinette Wayne enters the airport, but it is Marinette Cheng who boards a flight to Paris, France, and Marinette Cheng who lands in the fashion capital of the world seven and a half hours later.

Either way, her name is Marinette, and one day, she will rise.


	7. II-III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette enters College Francois Dupont. Her second period is interrupted by a large rock monster, and she finds a box on her desk containing a... thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's here! the tie-in to the tv show is here! 
> 
> I procrastinated a lot instead of copying my handwritten draft into digital. I have now watched everything Young Justice related and Teen Titans: the Judas Contract.
> 
> On another note, Damian's birthday was yesterday, and by extension, Marinette's in this universe.

Tom and Sabine are extremely generous, and insist that they are happy to help anyone who escapes the League. The League stopped trying to send assassins to kill Sabine after the sixth failed attempt, and they leave the bakery alone now, which makes it all the better place for Marinette to stay.

She gets the entire third floor of the bakery as her bedroom. It already has a loft bed, desk, and chair, as well as a skylight that leads to a rooftop balcony. The bedroom, however, lacks any sort of personality, and Marinette throws herself into decorating in order to forget the absence of her twin.

When she is finished, the walls have been painted a dark emerald  **(A/N: #53DOE if you want the exact shade, though I don’t know why you would want it)** and the desk and chair are painted black (because dark green goes a lot better with black then white). Marinette purchases a black vanity and dark green chaise with black accents to fill some of the empty space, and buys a new sewing machine and dress form for her designs. She puts up a bulletin board on the empty wall next to her bed and fills it with pictures of her family, and also hangs fairy lights around the room to give it a more cozy feel.  **(A/N: Basically, her room in canon, but dark green and black instead of pink and white.)**

Marinette still feels like something is missing from her room. A quick search on the internet shows that most children and teenagers also have plush animals or dolls in their rooms, so she makes her own. A couple hours later, a row of Gotham’s vigilantes occupies the shelf above her bed, other than Starling. That would be harder to explain away than just liking the vigilantes from her home city, given that nobody outside of Gotham knows she exists.

The decorating takes about two weeks in total. Marinette spends another week and a half learning the Dupain-Cheng recipes and helping in the bakery, and she video chats with her siblings weekly, as well as Jon.

Father is distant again, but Marinette understands. He must see Damian’s features every time he looks at her, the same way she sees Damian in him.

.o0o.

On her first day of school, Marinette safely pulls an old man out of the way of an oncoming car without endangering the macarons Tom gives her to share with her new class.

When the man thanks her, she offers him a macaron even though she wants to rip into him for wearing such an ugly shirt. (Loud Hawaiian print in the fashion capital of the world, the atrocity.) As Marinette crosses the street, she shakes off the feeling that the man was hiding something. It’s not her problem.

Collége Francois Dupont doesn’t have a uniform, so Marinette picked an outfit that represents her to the very core. A dark gray blazer with a black bat embroidered over her heart, a blood red shirt, black flare-cut pants, and steel-toed combat boots. There are numerous weapons hidden all over her body, but the public doesn’t need to know that.

Marinette easily navigates the crowd (paparazzi was  _ much _ worse) and locates her locker, dropping off the appropriate textbooks before finding the right classroom and entering. She selects a seat in the far back so she can survey the room. A red-haired boy (Nathaniel Kurtzberg, judging from his appearance) sits alone across the aisle from her, but Marinette does not join him.

Another red-haired teacher (why is she followed by redheads wherever she goes? Wallace, Babs, Roy, Koriand’r, and Artemis were  _ more _ than enough) with a saccharine smile walks in, introducing herself as Mme. Bustier for the new students. They are asked to introduce themselves. A brunette with glasses goes first.

“Hi! I’m Alya Césaire. I’m an aspiring journalist, and I love superheroes! I moved from Nice this summer.” The teacher asks if anyone has any questions for Alya. There are none.

Then it’s her turn. Marinette stands, walks to the front of the room, and speaks in perfectly accented French. “My name is Marinette Cheng. I am originally from Gotham, but I am staying with my aunt to study here in France.”

Alya immediately puts her hand in the air. “You’re from Gotham? Have you ever seen any of the Bats?”

“I have seen a few capes on the rooftops once or twice, but it is not advised to be out in the city after dark.” Marinette replies. She turns to Mme. Bustier, holding up the box of macarons. “My uncle Tom provided me with macarons to share with the class from the bakery. May I pass them out?”

The teacher’s smile almost makes her cringe with the false sincerity. “Go ahead!” Marinette obediently starts handing them out.

“Wait. Your aunt and uncle own the Tom & Sabine Boulangerie and Patisserie? That’s the best bakery in Paris!” A dark-skinned boy with a cap and headphones ( _ Nino Lahiffe,  _ the file she read proclaims.) exclaims.

Marinette smiles proudly, and is slightly surprised to find that it is genuine. “Yes, they do.” A haughty-looking blonde turns up her nose at the cookies, but her redheaded friend accepts one. Chloé Bourgeois and Sabrina Raincomprix. The mayor and police chief’s daughters, respectively.

Mme. Bustier begins the class, and not long after, Marinette notices that the boy known as Kim is harassing the one named Ivan. Ivan is growing increasingly more agitated as Kim passes him more and more notes, until he snaps. 

“Kim!” 

The teacher whirls around, shocked that someone interrupted her. “Ivan, what is the matter?”   
  


“It’s Kim! He’s-”

“Principal’s office, Ivan.” Mme. Bustier says sternly, and Marinette feels a flare of annoyance. Ivan wasn’t even given a chance to explain. 

“Pardon me, Mme. Bustier, but as I sit behind them, I witnessed the entire interaction, and from my perspective, Ivan appeared to be the victim. I believe you should give him a chance to explain.” She barely manages to keep her voice even.

“What is there to explain? He interrupted my class!  _ Now, _ Ivan!” Mme. Bustier commands, and Marinette is reminded of a four year old girl, being handed a sword almost as tall as her and told to execute the supposed traitor to the League in front of her. But there is nothing more she can do, so she goes back to discreetly observing the class while pretending to take notes.

.o0o.

When the period ends, Marinette heads to the library. Alya, the other new girl, catches up to her. “Marinette, right? That was really cool, how you tried to stand up for Ivan. You were like a superhero!”

One side of her mouth twitches. “It was the right thing to do.” 

The brunette grins. “Well, as Majestia always said, all that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good people do nothi-”

Suddenly, the ground shakes, and something that sounds suspiciously like Ivan roars Kim’s name. Marinette quickly pulls up the security feed from the front of the building on her tablet (thanks, Babs) and frowns.

There’s a large monster made of what looks like rock smashing everything and roaring “KIM!” in Ivan’s voice. As she watches, the monster smashes the camera, cutting off her feed.  _ Magic. _ There was no other explanation for it. Marinette hated magic. All the Bats did. It defied all logic, everything they knew about science.

Next to her, Alya is checking her phone’s GPS and camera before running for the exit. “Where are you going?” Marinette calls, running after her.

“Where there’s a supervillain, there are always superheroes!” The girl yells back. “I’m going to get them all on video!” Marinette groans.

“Another Lois Lane… You’re going to get hurt, Alya!” But the girl isn’t exactly wrong. The European branch of the League  _ is _ based in Paris, after all.

.o0o.

The school sends everyone home, and Marinette is halfway across the street when she realizes that today is the day all the League members across the universe go to the Watchtower for the quarterly meeting, and therefore will not hear about the situation in time. She curses in Arabic and runs into the bakery. She can’t get a secure line to the Watchtower from her tablet.

Marinette enters her room and beelines for her computer, but pauses. Someone has been in her room. Tom and Sabine know to not enter, and her instinct, after years with the League, is never wrong. Her eyes quickly scan the room until they fall on a small wooden box with an unfamiliar insignia.

Curiously (foolishly), she opens the box, only to shield her eyes against the ball of blinding pink light that rises from it. When the light fades, she is face to face with a red and black spotted… something.

“Don’t be scared, Marinette!” The thing chirps in a squeaky voice. “My name is Tikki. I’m a kwami, and you have been chosen to be a hero!”

_ Oh, joy. _ Her mind grumbles. Marinette stares at the plain black earrings the box contains. “Tikki, I do not know where you came from, but I am afraid you will have to find someone else. I am not a hero, nor do I wish to be one.”

The red kwami zips closer to her face, making her take a step back. “Marinette, you  _ can  _ be a hero! You have a creative, strategic mind, which makes you a perfect match for me! Although, the destruction in you makes you a great match for Plagg too…” Tikki mutters.

A roar echoes in the distance, and Marinette winces.

“There are civilians in danger, Marinette, and it’s up to you to help save them.” The kwami insists.

Marinette sighs. So much for giving up the vigilante life. She can’t even say no to a three inch-tall being. “How do I do… whatever this is?”

Tikki beams. “I knew you’d do it! Okay, listen carefully…”

.o0o.

“Spots on.” The bright pink light from before engulfs her, and when it fades, Marinette walks over to her floor-length mirror and blinks.

“Well, I always hated magic. Is this my punishment? To be a magical girl?” She grumbles as she takes in her new look.

Her skin is now much paler, in order to pass as Caucasian. Marinette’s subconscious must have decided that her normal tone would be too obvious in France. Her dark hair, while the same length, now had red streaks going through it, and her suit (why so skintight?) is red with black spots, with solid black patches on her torso and two-thirds of her limbs. A red yoyo with five black spots hangs off her waist, and a black mask similar to the one she wore as Starling covers the bottom portion of her face.

“What, exactly, made Tikki choose a  _ yoyo _ as a weapon? Did she even choose the yoyo?” Marinette muses, unhooking said object and giving it a few experimental tosses. Another roar hits her ears. “I should get out there. Tikki said I had a partner?”

Marinette throws the yoyo, and it hooks onto a nearby chimney, working similarly to her old grappling hook. She laughs as she is pulled through the air. It feels good to be airborne again, no matter how much she tries to stay away from this life. But now is not time to dwell on that- she has a job to do.

She guesses that the blonde in an even tighter leather catsuit is her partner. He introduces himself as ‘Chat Noir.’ Well, since he went with Black Cat in French, Marinette chooses ‘Ladybug.’ English, as a reminder of her home. 

They follow the destruction path to the stadium and battle the akuma, as Tikki said it was called, for a bit until it becomes clear that close combat will not work. Ladybug calls her Lucky Charm and catches a wetsuit, falling back to scan her surroundings.

“Ooh, is that your power? I can destroy anything I touch, see?” Her partner says excitedly, calling up his Cataclysm and foolishly wasting it on a goalpost, rendering his power useless.

“You only have one use of it, you imbecile!” Ladybug snaps. “Now you have five minutes before you forcibly detransform! Did your kwami not teach you anything?”

Chat Noir grins sheepishly. “I may have gotten a little excited.”

Ladybug huffs. “Tt. Take this seriously, Chat Noir. I have a plan. You will not enjoy it very much. Do not resist.” She wraps her yoyo around her partner and throws him full force at the akuma, who reflexively catches him in its open hand. The right fist, as she suspected, remains firmly closed around what has to be the akumatized object.

She hands herself over to the akuma, clutching the wetsuit, which has been connected to a tap with a nearby hose, and yells for Alya, who is crouching nearby, filming (a Lois Lane indeed) to turn on the tap. She obliges, and the suit inflates, forcing the akuma’s fist open and letting Ladybug drop to the ground, along with a purple paper ball.  _ The akumatized object. _

Ladybug rips the paper ball and frees a purple butterfly, which flies away. The akuma turns back into Ivan, and Chat Noir lands on his feet nearby, much like his namesake. 

Ladybug turns to see a phone camera shoved in her face, held by Alya Césaire, who asks a flurry of questions.

Years of handling the press comes in handy. She gives the camera a false smile, not that the audience can see it at all with her mask. “I am Ladybug. This is my partner, Chat Noir.” She gestures to said partner, who smiles blindingly at the camera. Right on cue, their miraculouses beep.

“That’s our cue. Bug out!” Ladybug throws her yoyo and launches into the sky, cringing moments later at how cheesy the last part sounded.


	8. II-IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the akuma multiplies, Marinette verbally roasts her kwami, and she has to make a decision in the heat of battle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you know- Marinette arguing with Tikki will be the prequel to Marinette Bashes Master Fu™. 
> 
> Also, I kind of realized yesterday that I just? forgot? to write? Stephanie Brown? into the story? like, how?
> 
> I am a disgrace to the color purple and waffle lovers everywhere.

Marinette, Tom, and Sabine watch the news with horrified eyes as Nadja Chamack announces people turning into replicas of today’s akuma all over Paris. Marinette excuses herself and runs up to her room.

Tikki zips out from her hiding spot in Marinette’s jacket. “Did you purify the butterfly?” 

“Did you tell me to?” Marinette retorts. “All you told me was that the earrings were a magical piece of jewelry called a miraculous, I had a phrase that I needed to say in order to transform, my power was Lucky Charm, which would help me in battle, and that I had a partner. So, what did you leave out?”

“It’s obvious that you have to catch the butterfly in your yoyo and purify it!” Tikki exclaims. “You should know that you need to throw your Lucky Charm in the air after the battle and call Miraculous Ladybug to fix everything!”

“It wasn’t obvious, and I didn’t know, because  _ nobody _ bothered to inform me.” Marinette sighs. “I did warn you, Tikki, that I could never be a hero.” She moves to take the earrings out. She just isn’t the right person to wear them.

The kwami flies forward. “No, Marinette, don’t! This can easily be fixed, we just have to wait for Ivan to be akumatized again!”

Marinette glares at the kwami. “Why would I ever wish for someone to be akumatized because they experienced a negative emotion  _ again _ ? It should not happen in the first place, let alone another time. I am sorry, Tikki, but you will have to find someone else to be Ladybug.” She removes the earrings, and Tikki disappears.

Marinette tucks the earrings back into the box they came in and slumps onto her bed. She recalls her promises to her family to stay out of trouble, to be safe, to be careful, and her promise to herself to give up being a vigilante, because she could never be a hero, not after the lives she has taken.

“You did the right thing.” She says out loud. It sounds less like a statement and more like a question.

.o0o.

The next day, Marinette walks into the classroom and sits down in the same seat she was in yesterday, ignoring the crowd of students around Ivan. She does, however, frown when Chloé says “Once a monster, only a monster.” and sends Ivan stumbling out of the classroom.

Alya sits down next to her and starts talking about the blog she created to follow Ladybug and Chat Noir. Marinette reaches into her bag, fingers finding the hard wood of the jewelry box. Ladybug would not be making another appearance. All she needed to do now was slip the box into the belongings of a worthy candidate.

She scans the classroom. Alya was impulsive and constantly threw herself into danger (the blog served as a testament to that.) Juleka and Myléne were too timid, Rose would feel bad about possibly hurting the akuma. Sabrina was certainly loyal enough, but she needed someone to tell her what to do. Chloé- just- no.

Marinette cycles through all the males in the classroom too, until her eyes fall on a blonde boy whom Chloé is hanging off of. She peers closer, eyebrows furrowing.

Adrien Agreste, son of reclusive fashion designer Gabriel Agreste. Interesting. His body language is… weird. He is giving off the sense that he is constantly lying. It’s almost as if his entire person is fake.

Alya catches Marinette staring and gives her a ‘knowing’ smile. “Got a crush on the new model boy, eh?”

Marinette frowns. “Why would I feel any romantic attraction towards Adrien Agreste?”

“Is he good looking?” Alya asks.

“Well, yes,but-” Marinette is interrupted by the blogger.

“Then you have a crush!” She crows gleefully.

Marinette is certain that is not how crushes work. “Just because I can agree that somebody is objectively attractive does not mean that I automatically desire them as a romantic partner.”

Alya doesn’t even seem to hear her. “This is so awesome! You guys would look so cute together! As your best friend, I am obliged to commence Operation Adrienette!”

_ Best friend? _ Marinette thinks.  _ My best friend lives in Metropolis. The other one… is six feet underground. _ She stubbornly stuffs that last thought to the corner of her mind. Marinette already  _ has _ a best friend, and it is not this girl. She fires a text to Jon under the table, though he won’t wake up for another couple hours.

> **Direct Messaging: TinyKent**
> 
> **Mariiiiii:** This girl just named herself my best friend and declared that I had a crush on a model boy, despite my protests. I am pretty sure that this is not how one makes friends.

She doesn’t really get to dwell on that, though, because Mme. Bustier starts roll call, and yesterday’s akuma smashes through the door when the teacher calls Ivan’s name, grabbing Myléne and Chloé before crashing through the window and onto the street below.

Marinette curses in Arabic as she grabs her backpack and runs. She hasn’t found a suitable hero yet! And, judging from the inexperienced way Chat Noir held his staff yesterday, he will not be able to hold his own against the akuma for long.

Speaking of which, said cat boy leaps towards the akuma and whacks it with his staff, prompting it to grow larger. Seriously, did he not learn at all?

Marinette sighs, and puts the earrings back in. It looks like she will have to be Ladybug again. Tikki pops back into existence. “Marinette! I knew you would change your mind!”

“I am not changing my stance, Tikki.” Marinette says. “I still believe I am not a hero, but I must act like one for now. People are in danger. Spots on.”

Ladybug drops into the fight as a couple of stone giants surround Chat Noir.

“Nice of you to drop in.” Chat remarks. 

“I was a little held up. How did you arrive so fast?” Ladybug asks as she ducks and rolls to avoid a fist.

“I was in the area.” Mistake Number One: revealing information that could lead to his identity. Using it, Ladybug deduces that Chat Noir is most likely a student at her school. Hmm. 

“We must follow the original to purify the akuma. It was headed to the Eiffel Tower.” Chat Noir nods, and they use their weapons to swing away from the giants.

They arrive in time to see the akuma throw Chloé off the Eiffel Tower. Ladybug throws her yoyo, wrapping it around a steel beam, and uses its momentum to launch herself towards the blonde, catch her, and lower her safely to the ground.

_ A hero would save her, just like you did. _ Part of her whispers. Ladybug shoves it down.  _ It would be inconvenient to let the mayor’s daughter die, even if she does make everyone around her miserable. _ Ladybug walks over to Chat Noir, who is arguing with Officer Raincomprix.

“Well last time you tried to handle it, you failed!” The man says angrily. “So stay out of the way and let the professionals do their thing.”

Professionals, huh? Ladybug internally scoffs. She’s been fighting since the day she learned to walk. 

The officer is correct though. She could never be a hero, not with her history. But now that she has been forced to take on the role, handed the responsibility of the lives of a city, she will do her best to play the part, at least until she finds someone better.

On the Eiffel Tower, the akuma coughs and spits out a swarm of purple butterflies, which form a man’s face. 

“Ladybug, Chat Noir.” The… thing says. It introduces itself as Hawkmoth (the imbecile evidently hadn’t noticed that his akumas were  _ butterflies. _ ) and proceeds to try and pin the blame for the akuma’s damage on them. Ladybug doesn’t pay attention to the specifics, because she is busy taking mental notes.

_ Male, most likely middle-aged Caucasian by the sound of it, grammar and speech patterns indicate well-educated, upper-class. French has the normal Parisian accent, so most likely based within this city unless the miraculous has an extended range? Ask Tikki. _

Ladybug claps sarcastically, striding forward. “Let’s not reverse the roles, Hawkmoth. You are the emotional terrorist in this situation. You are taking advantage of people’s negative emotions and turning them into your puppets. We are here to stop you. To the citizens of Paris- my partner and I promise that as long as this man who thinks it is fashionable to wear a condom on his head remains at large, Ladybug and CHat Noir will be here to protect you.”

She had to lace the insult in there. It was too ugly, she couldn’t help herself. Ladybug unhooks her yoyo and leaps into the air, catching all the butterflies making up Hawkmoth’s face and releasing them in a large white cloud. The people at the base of the Tower marvel at the sight.

Chat Noir climbs up to stand next to her, which prompts the akuma, who declares his name to be Stoneheart, to go even higher.

“How are we going to do this?” Chat Noir asks, and Ladybug frowns. Why would Ivan want Myléne? Think! Her brain rifles through yesterday’s memories, and she gasps. 

“Ivan is attracted to Myléne. We do not separate the two, instead, we bring them together. Lucky Charm.”

A parachute falls into her hands, and Ladybug smiles. “Okay. Here’s the plan.”

.o0o.

It works beautifully. Once both Ivan and Myléne are safe on the ground, Ladybug throws the parachute into the air and casts Miraculous Ladybug, feeling a weight lifted off her shoulders as everything damaged from both of Stoneheart’s rampages get returned to its previous state.

She sees the paper ball that was Ivan’s akumatized object and unfolds it, smiling at the contents. Ivan must have tried to confess, but it somehow went wrong. The song lyrics were very well-written, however.

Ladybug hands Myléne the paper. “You should read the lyrics. They are truly wonderful.” She returns to stand next to her partner, who is wearing an… odd sort of grin, as Ivan is hugged by Myléne.

“They are very well-suited for each other.” Ladybug remarks. Chat Noir grabs her hand, making her skin crawl and instincts scream ‘ _ DANGER!’ _ She quickly rips it out of his grip and moves farther away. He may be her partner, but he is still unfamiliar and she doesn’t trust him.

“Just like us, wouldn’t you agree, m’lady?” Ladybug frowns, about to respond, but then her earrings beep, and she gladly takes the cue to swing away and detransform.

“You did amazing, Marinette!” Tikki cheers. Marinette cracks a smile as she hands the kwami a macaron. 

“Thank you, Tikki, but my work is far from over. I need to start a case file on Hawkmoth, but first, I must meet with the Justice League Europe, and the American branch as well if possible.”


	9. II-V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ladybug and Chat Noir meets with the Justice League. Afterwards, Chat Noir crosses a line.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm planning on participating in Bio!Dad Bruce Month, which is September, but it will not be like Jasonette July, because school starts back up in September and I won't have time to do one prompt a day.
> 
> However, I do want to do a few select prompts set in the same universe as this fic, because it is conveniently a bio!dad AU. They'll be fillers, of sorts, for all the time skips that I include.

Ladybug waits on the Eiffel Tower, far above the highest platform available to tourists. She checks the time on her yoyo. Chat Noir is ten minutes late.

A pair of feet land lightly behind her. “Hey Bugaboo. We did a really great job yesterday. We make a nice pair, don’t you think?” A black gloved hand grabs hers, and Ladybug snatches it away, again, before Chat Noir can kiss it.

“This is a strictly professional partnership, Chat Noir.” She says sternly. “You will address me as Ladybug and respect my boundaries. I do not like to be touched. Please refrain from doing so unless there is a threat to my safety. I have called you here because I have scheduled a meeting with the Justice League.”

Chat Noir blinks. “We’re going to meet the  _ Justice League? _ ”

“Yes. They did originally receive the mayor’s distress call, you know, but some members of the League have heard of the miraculous and made the call not to interfere. They have agreed to meet with us at the Justice League Embassy. We must convince them to stay out of Paris until this is over.” Ladybug says.

“What? Why aren’t we letting the League-”

“Chat Noir, we only received our miraculouses three days ago.” Ladybug says sharply. “Could you imagine the devastation that an akumatized Batman would bring? Wonder Woman? Superman? Any League member, really? Even if we were properly trained beforehands, the world would be nothing more than space dust.”

Chat Noir rubs the back of his head. “...Oookay. Point taken. When is this meeting gonna happen? I’ve got a really busy schedule, you know.”

Being a hero should come first, but Ladybug opens her yoyo instead. It is 10:43 pm. “We are expected at 11 pm. Let’s go.”

.o0o.

The only League member currently in Paris is Aquaman, who eyes Chat Noir’s miraculous warily the entire time as he leads them to a secure meeting room, where holograms of the other League members are set up.

“Thank you for having us.” Ladybug respectfully bows her head, feeling the eyes of her father’s colleagues watching her. It’s been a while since she has last spoken to her father.

Aquaman bows his own head. “It has been a long time since a Ladybug and Black Cat have walked the Earth. If you are here, the threat must be extremely large.” He glances at Chat Noir’s ring again, and Ladybug makes a mental note to ask Tikki if Chat Noir’s ring had anything to do with the sinking of Atlantis.

“Why have you requested this meeting?” Batman’s low growl is familiar. Ladybug ignores the fact that it is the second time he has spoken to her since she moved to Paris. “Do you need the League to send members to assist-”

“No!” Chat Noir and Ladybug exclaim at the same time. Everyone looks at them in surprise.

“My apologies.” Ladybug says. “We actually came to ask the opposite. Chat Noir and I were chosen out of necessity, and we are still very inexperienced. We would not be able to get the situation under control if any League member were akumatized, and Hawkmoth preys on negative emotions. It is foolish to think that none of the League members would suffer from PTSD or something similar, and any heroes that use their emotions to help them in battle would also be susceptible to akumatization.”

“So until we have defeated Hawkmoth, we are asking you to stay out of Paris, both as heroes and as civilians.” Chat Noir continues.

Wonder Woman nods, her holographic figure radiating power. “The miraculouses are not to be underestimated. My mother, Hippolyta, will be thrilled to know she has a successor.” She looks at Ladybug, a hint of a smile on her face. “You are welcome on Themyscira anytime you please.”

“Ladybug and Chat Noir make a strong case.” Superman agrees. “All in favor of staying out of Paris unless the miraculous holders declare otherwise?” Everyone choruses ‘aye’, which makes Ladybug smile. She’s glad her mask covers the lower half of her face. It would ruin her image.

They successfully negotiated with the Justice League. That takes a considerable amount of courage, and Chat Noir wasn’t even shaking all that much.

Ladybug and Chat Noir go back to their previous perch on top of the Eiffel Tower. “One more thing.” Ladybug says. “I noticed that you have very little experience using a staff as a weapon, and little to no combat skills either. If you can fit it into your… busy schedule, I would like to train you so that we may-”

Chat Noir gives her a smarmy grin. “Oh, Bugaboo, I’d be honored to date you! Does this mean I can kiss you now? You’ll have to take off your mask!” He leans in, hand outstretched to remove her mask and lips puckered, and Ladybug slaps him.

The sound echoes through the night.

“I will not be disrespected like this.” She hisses dangerously. Chat swears her eyes flash green for a moment. “I promised to never take another life. Try this again, and you will learn that there are a lot of things worse than death. I was offering to train you in martial arts and weaponry, not invite you out on a date. Make no mistake, Chat Noir. I am your partner, not by choice, but because I cannot quit while people are in danger and Hawkmoth is at large. I do not want to be near you any longer than I must.”

Ladybug leaps off the side of the Eiffel Tower and swings away into the night.

.o0o.

Every time there is an akuma attack, Ladybug works as fast as possible to get it purified so everyone can go about their normal lives. Marinette’s siblings express their concern for her safety in Paris, but she waves it off.

“I know how to stay safe. Besides, Ladybug has helped the city council set up akuma shelters. It will be alright.” It is getting late in Paris, so she says goodnight to her siblings and hangs up.

Marinette glances at her Robin doll, a fierce scowl on his face, right hand grasping his miniature katana, next to her pillow. “I miss you,  _ akhi. _ ” She whispers, before falling asleep.

.o0o.

Alya has recruited all the other girls in the class to ‘Operation Adrienette’ by the end of the third week. She continues to plot with them to try and get Marinette and Adrien together, much to Marinette’s chagrin.

“C’mon, girl!  _ Adrien _ is at the park, doing a photoshoot! This is your chance to impress him!” The blogger is at her front door. Living on top of the most popular bakery in Paris does have its downsides. Who knew?

Marinette is babysitting Mme. Chamack’s daughter Manon, however. She has a responsibility to look after the child, and says as much. Besides, she doesn’t think Adrien will be very impressed that she interrupted her photoshoot to ask him out.

“You can take her with you! Now, let’s go!” Marinette lets herself be pulled along, even though every part of her screams for her to flip Alya over her shoulder. She is a normal girl right now. Normal, normal, normal.

Of course, as normal as one can be while hiding that you are the biological daughter of the richest man in the world, who also happens to be Batman, grew up in the League of Assassins with your bloodthirsty mother who later made an adult clone of your twin brother and killed your twin with the clone, which you later beheaded, used to moonlight as a vigilante in Gotham City along with your other adopted siblings, and currently duck out of school and other activities constantly to fight a wide variety of colorful monsters created by a crazy magical terrorist with a condom on his head that is trying to steal your magical jewelry by using his own magical jewelry to draw you out, all while your supposed ‘partner’ falls under mind control and turns against you every other week, and even when not under the enemy’s spell, is more of a hindrance than help in battle.

Marinette lets out an amused huff inside her own brain. Yep.  _ Very _ normal.

Speaking of which, Chat Noir won’t leave her alone either.

He hasn’t tried to kiss her again, thank goodness, but he clung onto her hand far longer than necessary when fighting Stormy Weather just now. The look he gave her indicated that he  _ knew _ it was wrong, but he chose to do it anyway! Marinette wonders if heat vision could penetrate the miraculous suit, and debated the pros and cons of telling Jon just so she can watch Chat Noir get his butt kicked, as Jon would say.

_ Not worth it.  _ She decides, studying the file she has on Hawkmoth. Jon was terrible at keeping secrets, and would crack under a single glare from any member of her family. Marinette wants her family to figure it out themselves, exercise their detective skills a little. She knows they’re working on Ladybug’s case, so it should be any day now.


	10. II-VI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter in the second arc! A new fencer joins the team, catching Marinette's interest. She meets and scolds the Guardian, and the family learns something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm cackling at my brother's expression. He just finished arc three chapter two and I troll everyone.

Marinette joined Professor D’Argencourt’s fencing team two weeks into the school year as a way to keep her skills sharp and as an outlet for stress. It works surprisingly well, but she is by far the most skilled fencer on the team. Marinette is confident she can at least match Professor D’Argencourt in a match, but she hasn’t ever tried.

The only person anywhere near her skill level, regrettably, is Adrien. Every day after school, she duels him, and every day, she is victorious. None of the team is a match for her, unlike Cass, or… Damian.

She shakes her head, pulling her face guard down and walking out of the locker room into the open courtyard in the middle of the school. The red and gold leaves of November rustle above her. Thinking about Damian will not bring him back.

A new fencer, boldly dressed in red, is demanding to join the team. D’Argencourt insists that they only have room for the best, and the fencer states that they were the best, wherever they went. The professor agrees to let them duel the best fencer he has, and that they will be allowed to join the team if the fencer beats his best.

When asked who is the best fencer, everyone turns around and looks at Marinette. She draws her sabre and walks over to the mats. Maybe this fencer will be different.

Marinette stands tall, sabre at the ready, facing her opponent, who does the same. At the professor’s signal, they lunge in a furious battle of blades, and she feels a jolt of excitement as she has to increase the amount of focus she uses from half to about two-thirds to keep up. Marinette has never met someone who could keep up with her that wasn’t a Bat, Justice League member, or assassin. This is new and interesting, and she likes it.

Again and again, the machine declares a tie, so they remove their sensors and engage in combat the old-fashioned way. Marinette knows she isn’t pushing herself as much as she can, that she could win if she tried harder, but this fencer is… special. Different. She wants them to join the team, if only so she can duel them during practice instead of Adrien.

When their sabres finally touch each other again, Adrien is the only one who witnesses it, and he declares the one in red the winner. 

Marinette disagrees, but lets it go. It is not every day that she meets someone who can match her in swordplay. She looks forward to duelling them again, now that they have been awarded a place on the team.

The fencer removes their mask, revealing- “Tsurugi Kagami.” Marinette says reverently. “It was an honor to duel you.” 

She removes her own face guard and holds out her hand. “Marinette Cheng.”

“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Kagami’s French is lightly accented. “I do not find many that can keep up with me.”

_ It was more like you were keeping up with me, but it is admirable all the same.  _ Marinette smiles as the other girl shakes her hand. “I believe this will be the start of a strong partnership. I look forward to seeing you at practice tomorrow..”

Kagami’s serious brown eyes meet her piercing blue ones. “Yes, I believe it will.”

.o0o.

“Tikki, why did you choose a child to be a hero?” Marinette asks one November afternoon.

Her kwami blinks. “Your soul was the most compatible with my miraculous in Paris.”

“But would choosing an adult that was less compatible send the city up in flames? Why did it have to be children who guard the city?”

Tikki sighs. “There’s a Guardian of the Miraculous. That question is meant for him.”

“A Guardian of the Miraculous?” Marinette asks, frowning at her kwami. 

Tikki nods. “Yes. I want to take you to meet him. I believe you are ready.”

The next day, after school, Marinette walks among the scattered red and gold leaves asTikki directs her to a small massage parlor. Upon knocking, Marinette sees the old man with the terrible shirt from her first day of school.  _ So he was hiding something, after all. _

“Hello, Ladybug.” The man greets, and she raises an eyebrow.

Tikki flies towards the man. “Marinette, this is Master Fu, the Guardian of the Miraculouses.”

“I knew you were hiding something.” Marinette says, then remembers what she originally came to ask. 

“What were you thinking, giving magical jewelry to  _ children _ so they could be thrust into the middle of a battlefield without any training or forewarning?”

Master Fu sighs. “Children are less likely to use the miraculous for evil.”

“And that makes it correct?” Marinette’s eyes flash a dangerous green for the first time in her kwami’s presence. “Children are supposed to be children, not have to constantly find excuses to leave school and extracurricular activities so they can bear the weight of a city on their shoulders. Children are supposed to be  _ innocent! _ You are extremely lucky I lost all innocence long before I came to Paris, but what of Chat Noir? He holds his staff like a sword! The only reason he hasn’t died permanently yet is because my power reverses all the damage, and his suit absorbs most of the harm done to him!”

Master Fu, Tikki, and the turtle kwami she never caught the name of hovering next to the old man’s shoulder wear identical expressions of shock.

“You have used a Lazarus Pit.” The turtle kwami says.

Master Fu nods. “That would explain the destruction in your soul that would make you a good Black Cat as well.”

Marinette looks at her Ladybug kwami, eyes hard. “Tikki. You already knew I was once a part of Batman’s team, that much is unavoidable given the calls I make weekly. What you did not know, however, was that I was born and raised in the League of Assassins until I was ten years old.”

Several gasps are heard, and Marinette glares at the Guardian.

“So I have seen too much. I have gone and crossed the line. I have watched others cross that line. I have been the victim when others cross the line. My innocence may have been long gone, but it does not change the fact that you put the burden of protecting a city on  _ children. _ ” Marinette leaves the massage parlor without another word, Tikki quickly hiding back in her jacket as they exit.

.o0o.

When Marinette accepts Richard’s request to video chat at their usual time, she is surprised to see Father in the small crowd around the screen too.

There are various cries of ‘Mari!’ and ‘Nettie!’ and she smiles.

“Bonsoir Richard, Cass, Jason, Tim, Alfred, Father. How have you been?”

“Great!” Richard replies, then pauses. “Well, actually, Timmy got stabbed on patrol three nights ago, but it wasn’t that deep and didn’t hit anything major.”

“Dick!” Tim whines. “I’m fine! Your winter break starts in three weeks, right? Are you coming back to visit?”

Marinette would be lying if she said she hadn’t already thought about it. She went to Paris to escape the city, to escape her memories, but it would be nice to see her family again. Paris was different, in a nice kind of way, but sometimes, one just needed the darkness and gargoyles of Gotham. 

“I’m booking a flight to Gotham for Winter Break. Our break lasts until January 6th, so I will return on the same day. Jet lag is not much of an issue for me.”

Father looks at the screen with more seriousness. “How are you holding up? We saw this week’s akuma. Jackady? A terrible name, but a mob managed to storm past the Agreste Manor’s front gates and into the home.”

“Jackady was a play on  _ Jacque a dit _ , the French version of Simon Says.” Marinette replies. “The akuma had a lot of potential for destruction, but the bakery was left untouched. I am fine, Father.”

The look of relief on his worn face is obvious. “Good. And another thing? I know you said you didn’t want to be a vigilante anymore, but if you’re up to it, could you do a bit of digging into Ladybug’s identity? I understand that we’re not allowed in Paris, but Chat Noir doesn’t seem to be pulling his weight in the fights and our resources can help in her search for Hawkmoth from afar.”

Marinette frowns. “You still don’t know who Ladybug is? It has been almost three months. Tim solves decades-old cold cases in half an hour. Surely, they have some idea…

Cass shakes her head. “Magic blocking investigation, but maybe being closer helps. Ladybug’s fighting style… familiar.”

Marinette would hope so. Most of her combat moves were adopted from the League’s training, adjusted to be non-lethal. The rest were taught by her siblings. Ladybug constantly used Nightwing’s signature acrobatics to dodge attacks, wrestled off far larger opponents with Red Hood’s instructions in her head, scanned and analyzed everything and everyone just like Red Robin taught her, and Black Bat’s style was present in well... everything. Marinette always had an almost identical fighting style to her.

“You have no clue whatsoever? None?” She double checks, just in case. They shake their heads, Tim frowning in irritation at his inability to crack the case.

Marinette glances at Tikki, who is hovering above her computer. The kwami nods with a tiny smile, although Marinette would have them either way if she wanted to.

She pinches the bridge of her nose and sighs. “...You guys are Bats. The most mysterious clan of heroes in the Justice League, the partners of the World’s Greatest Detective, or in Father’s case, the World’s Greatest Detective himself, and yet you cannot deduce that I am Ladybug. Though, I suppose I should cut you some slack since my kwami has informed me that the magic makes it almost impossible to deduce the holder’s identity without seeing them transform in front of your eyes.”

As expected, the other side of the screen erupts into chaos. Swear words (mostly from Jason), Alfred’s cries of ‘five dollars in the swear jar, Master Jason- No, make that six!’, Father’s grumbling about how he should have seen it, and overall shocked exclamations make her smirk.

“We should have seen it! Who else could possibly have been Ladybug?” Tim asks. “She stands for Creation, and literally nobody is more creative than Marinette. She’s got the same fighting style, the same mask- wait. Is the whole Caucasian appearance another magic thing?”

“Well, eighty-five percent of France’s population is white. My normal skin tone combined with blue eyes would make me stand out far too much for my liking, and I do not want any outsiders learning my identity, magic hiding it or no. I will not take that risk. Besides, it throws people off my trail, along with the hair. Red streaks in my hair do not look too bad.” Marinette explains.

She glances over at the Robin doll on her bed as her family squabbles across the ocean, its masked eyes fierce. _ I hope I have made you proud, akhi _ .

Before she turns around, she can almost hear her twin’s voice.  _ You always do, ukhti. _

Then her phone beeps with an akuma alert, and Marinette says goodbye to her family before hanging up, transforming, and leaping off her rooftop balcony, swinging towards the destruction to once again save the day.


	11. III-I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette returns to Gotham for winter break.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i can play the queen of the night aria on a rubber band. perfect pitch is cool.

Marinette boards a plane to Gotham at precisely eight in the morning in Paris, and arrives at 9:17 am, Eastern Standard Time, in the infamous City of Crime and home of the Bats.

The flight itself is uneventful, other than finding out her regular ticket had been upgraded to first class after she refused to take a private jet or just take the zeta tubes because “ _ That’s illegal, Richard.” “Vigilantes are illegal, and look at us.” “I am not a vigilante anymore. I have been deputized by the city of Paris and can make legal arrests.” _

Upon exiting the airport, she is tackled into a hug by her siblings, falling backwards. Marinette’s head would have not-so-gently cracked against the concrete if it weren’t for Jason catching her from behind. 

Marinette laughs and pats Richard, who is the only that still hasn’t let go, on the back. “Hello,  _ frate. _ I’ve missed you too.”

“Alfred is waiting.” Cass says, which spurs them into action. Marinette moves to grab her large suitcase, but Jason is already on it, carrying it over to the limo ( _ why _ must it be a limo? To be fair, there’s a lot of them, but still.) and putting it in the trunk.

“Welcome back, Miss Marinette.” Alfred greets as she enters the limo. “I trust your flight went well?”

“It was as enjoyable as a flight can be.” Marinette replies, enjoying the way her natural semi-British accent flows off her tongue. “It is good to see you again.”

The drive from the airport to Wayne Manor is filled with banter and laughter.

.o0o.

Wayne Manor’s gardens are just as neat as ever, the fountain in the front spraying graceful arcs of water into the stone bowl below.

The interior still smells the same, like Alfred’s cooking and that delightful mix of lemon-scented cleaning supplies, the classic scent that nobody could really place, and a hint of gunpowder. 

The only difference is that the chandelier is new. Marinette points at it and looks questioningly at Richard, who grins sheepishly. “I may or may not have fallen asleep in the old one.”

“Will you be staying in your old room, Miss Marinette?” She knows Alfred doesn’t mean the guest room she spent a week sleeping in, but the room she shared with Damian.

Marinette shakes her head. “I will sleep in the unoccupied bedroom across from Cass.” She will have to return eventually to move her things out, but Marinette just doesn’t want to go in yet.

The room she chooses as her new quarters is just as spacious as her previous one, but with a large king-sized bed in place of the bunk bed. The walls are a pale green, and a large wooden desk stands next to a larger bookshelf stocked with classical literature. Jason must have chosen it. All the furniture is made out of walnut wood, and the covers on the bed are an emerald green- the color of Damian’s eyes.

She shakes the thought out of her head. Thinking about him will not bring him back.

Father is at work. He is a busy man. She tells herself it is alright.  _ Tim is the co-CEO, but he took the day off.  _ Her mind whispers.  _ Tim not being there means more work for Father. _ The other half of her argues.

Batman and Batwoman patrol Gotham for the night. (Apparently, Father finally agreed to let Aunt Kate be a member of the jokingly-dubbed Batfam by her siblings.) The city can survive one night without Red Robin, Red Hood, and Black Bat. Nightwing is only around periodically anyway.

Instead, after dinner, Marinette and her siblings flop onto various couches and armchairs in the smallest of the Manor’s three living rooms and marathon the Avengers movies. Paris is six hours ahead of Gotham and none of them have normal sleep schedules anyway, so it is perfectly valid. (Jon would argue otherwise, but  _ Jon doesn’t need to know. _ )

As Loki is handed the sceptre, Marinette shifts a bit closer to Tim, who she is sharing an armchair with. (They both like small spaces because they’re cozy, and their smaller bodies mean they both fit in the armchair.) Tim lets out a pleased sort of huff through his nose and steals half her blanket as the scene shifts and the Avengers theme starts playing.

Alfred wakes them up at noon the next day for lunch.

.o0o.

At 2:50 pm on the dot, Marinette zetas from the Gotham tube (not the Batcave) to Metropolis.

At 3 pm, she meets up with Jonathan Samuel Kent at Bibbo’s Diner, which has the best ice cream in Metropolis. (And Gotham too, but she would never admit that.)

As usual, Jon orders a cone with a scoop of blackberry and a scoop of blue raspberry, an interesting combination which he insists tastes amazing. As usual, Marinette complains that blue raspberry isn’t even a flavor, before ordering a blue moon and dark chocolate sundae.

“But Mari, cones are more fun!” Jon wheedles. “You should get a cone this time!”

“Cups are much safer. There is a much smaller chance of me losing my ice cream to the pavement as you sometimes do.” Marinette retorts as she pays for their desserts. 

Is it December? Yes. Do they care? Nope. Jon is half-kryptonian, and Marinette may have been raised in a desert, but she went through her fair share of survival training, so she’s also hardened to the cold.

After they finish their ice cream, they go to the mall to buy presents. Is she the daughter of a billionaire? Yes. But that takes out all the fun.

Marinette was always strictly atheist, but her family members are not always the same. Holiday season at the manor involves eating latkes, decorating a (fake) tree, lighting a menorah, and playing dreidel. Gifts were always exchanged on Christmas day.

In one of the stores, Jon discovers a large assembly of hero-themed mugs, mostly Super-related. Marinette immediately takes one that says “I am the Night” over a bat silhouette for Father and one with a cartoon Superboy (the first one) for Tim. She’s seen the way he looks at Conner.

The lady at the register looks at them and coos about ‘what an adorable couple you two make!’ She asks if they would like the couples discount on their purchases.

Marinette and Jon both turn bright red and insist that they are ‘best friends, nothing more’, but the lady doesn’t seem to believe them.

“That’s what they all say, dears. You’ll see.”

Later, as Marinette says goodbye to Jon outside the phone booth that serves as the zeta tube, she looks at her best friend’s sparkling blue eyes and unruly hair the color of the night sky, notices the way his lips curve and dimples show when he smiles, revealing perfect white teeth, and thinks that they might not be dating, but she certainly wouldn’t mind if they were.

She looks at the receipt after returning to Wayne Manor and realizes that the lady at the register gave them the couples discount anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> writing this fic got me into marijon and wHY IS THERE NOT ENOUGH MARIJON CONTENT ANYWHERE?


	12. III-II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second part of Marinette's winter break, including a New Year's Party and lots of presents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I posted this on tumblr yesterday and promptly forgot all about ao3. Whoops.
> 
> edit (11/6/20): there's mood-setting music now! Keep an eye out for the text with an embedded link, and once you see it, click on it and let the Youtube video play in the background as you read!

Marinette notices that Father is almost always in the Cave when he is not at Wayne Enterprises or patrolling, unless Alfred has made him go to sleep. It is how he avoids his problems, and maybe she should not be judging him considering she still hasn’t stepped into her old room, but it has been four months. Father has not even attempted to move on.

“He’s… trying to bring Damian back.” Tim responds when she asks. “Not the Pit! Never the Pit.” He amends hurriedly at the look in her eye.

“There is no other way.” Marinette says, before shutting herself in her sewing room for four hours and making a nice Robin-themed jacket. She won’t get her hopes up. She _won’t._ It’s impossible.

.o0o.

Of course, being present at the Winter Gala means a kidnapping. Or an attempted one, anyway.

One of the waiters gives her a spiked drink. Ketamine is supposed to be tasteless and odorless, but Marinette has built up enough of a tolerance that the minute amount of dizziness that sets in fifteen minutes later, along with the waiter subtly tailing her throughout the hall, clues her in.

It would be odd if she didn’t show any sign of the drugs taking hold, so she pretends to stumble and sway before collapsing, discreetly hooking her leg around the “waiter’s” ankle and sweeping his feet out from under him so his head hits the marble floor with a _crack._

Marinette calculates her fall so that she careens straight into Jason, whose arms lift her limp body with ease and carry her away from all the commotion, into one of the spare rooms down the hall.

“He tried to drug you?” Jason asks. Her siblings know the protocols.

“Ketamine. Built up a tolerance, but I suppose I must stay here for the rest of the gala to avoid arousing suspicion. What a shame.” Marinette says sarcastically. They all hate these galas. To get out of one is a treat.

Of course, the attempted kidnapping of Marinette Wayne is on the front page of every newspaper on the East Coast (reporters, ugh. The only respectable ones are Jon’s parents, and Lois wrote the article for the Daily Planet.) but it was unavoidable. Besides, if she _was_ kidnapped, the twelve trackers on her person at any given time and the subdermal one at the base of her neck means that the Bats will come save her. Marinette trusts her family.

.o0o.

Not a lot of people experience strong negative emotions during the holiday season, or maybe Hawkmoth was busy celebrating with his own family. Marinette shudders at the thought of whoever could have the misfortune of being related to that man.

She does zeta back to Paris a few times to fight an overworked mall Santa, a girl whose boyfriend dumped her the day before her birthday, and a man who insists Christianity is the only valid religion (Ladybug punches him in the face a few more times than necessary), but that’s it for her entire Winter Break. They don’t take very long, and Marinette is gone and back in half an hour at most every time.

She ends up telling Jon because she had to leave halfway through their lunch at BatBurger. Thankfully, he takes it very well.

“Honestly, I don’t think anybody else would do it half as well as you do, Mari.” 

Marinette, luckily, has practiced lying using Jon as a human lie detector before and therefore knows how to keep her heartbeat (fairly) steady and her breathing even and hopes that his super hearing didn’t pick up on the split-second change.

Tim helps her transfer Hawkmoth’s case file, which is getting larger by the week, onto the Batcomputer, and together, they narrow down the list to only five suspects.

Gabriel Agreste, who wrote the book that was her first birthday present from Tim, is one of them. Marinette thinks of the designer’s reclusive nature, the way he directly caused Jackady by blowing off the hypnotist, the way his body screams that he is hiding something, and Adrien’s false personality at school, and writes him down as the priority suspect- the first to be investigated.

.o0o.

On Christmas morning, Marinette wakes up to find a text from Jon.

> **Direct Messaging: TinyKent**
> 
> **TinyKent:** Merry Christmas Mari! ҉*( ‘ω’ )/*҉
> 
> **Mariiiiii:** Merry Christmans, Jon. I am surprised you awoke before me.
> 
> **TinyKent:** I was excited!
> 
> **TinyKent:** Ma n Pa are coming over, and u kno how much I love Ma’s apple pie!
> 
> **Mariiiiii:** Yes. Yes, I do.

She goes downstairs, still clad in her oversized Nightwing t-shirt and bat-patterned pajama pants, a rare sight.

Alfred makes even more food than normal for breakfast, and then they exchange presents. 

Father actually smiles when he sees Marinette’s mug and the turtleneck she knitted with a subtle bat logo on the inside of his right wrist. 

Richard hugs her (a common occurrence) when he unwraps a Nightwing onesie, and all her siblings laugh when they find similar onesies with their respective alter egos too. 

Tim turns beet red when he sees the mug with Conner on it. It makes all of her siblings laugh again, but they stop when Tim threatens to change the Wi-Fi password.

Alfred gets a cookbook filled with Dupain-Cheng recipes that Tom and Sabine allowed Marinette to compile, hand-written in her neat, looping script. 

Marinette’s phone buzzes, and she opens it to see a message from Jon. Attached is an image of him wearing the navy blue hoodie she made him, and Marinette smiles. He really does look good in blue.

Father’s present to her is a large array of dolls, modeled after her. Well, Starling. 

“They make these now?” Marinette asks as she observes one miniature version of herself, holding a tiny fan.

“Someone got a lucky shot.” Father replies. Translation: he anonymously leaked a picture to a toy company so she wouldn’t be left out of the Bat collection.

Cass gives her a pair of sai with a single ruby embedded into each handle. Marinette recognizes them as the ones Lady Shiva gave Cass shortly before she ran away. “Are you sure, _jiejie_?”

Cass nods, brown eyes piercing into her soul. “You are worthy.”

Richard gives her a scrapbook of family moments she didn’t know she needed. There are pages for individual members, as well as ones for the group as a whole. This time, Marinette initiates the hug.

Jason gives her another ceramic dagger, as he does for every holiday, much to Father’s disapproval. This one has a hollow compartment in the handle that she could store her earbuds in. 

“...Why?” Marinette asks, when he informs her of the compartment’s function.

Jason shrugs. “Dunno. I got it ‘cause it was cool.”

Tim’s present is a weighted blanket patterned with robins. Marinette finds a picture of herself and Jon eating ice cream tucked into the folds, and it is her turn to flush red as Tim snickers.

Alfred gives Marinette a book on casual fashion, written by Audrey Bourgeois. He doesn’t know Audrey’s daughter is the biggest bully in her class (or maybe he does, one never knows with Alfred.) Either way, Marinette looks forward to reading it in her free time.

Ironically enough, when Marinette opens the package Jon handed her when they exchanged gifts the day before, it’s a version of his old Superboy hoodie in her size, short cape and all. She puts it on and takes a picture before sending it to him.

> **Direct Messaging: TinyKent**
> 
> **Mariiiiii:** This is a betrayal to all my fellow Gothamites.
> 
> **TinyKent** is typing…
> 
> **TinyKent** is typing…
> 
> **TinyKent** is typing…
> 
> **TinyKent:** wow u look rlly nice in that Mari!
> 
> **Mariiiiii:** Are you implying that I do not look nice normally?
> 
> **TinyKent:** NO!
> 
> **Mariiiii:** Just joking. Thank you, Jon.

.o0o.

On New Year’s Eve, all of them change into costume and zeta to the Watchtower for the annual Justice League New Year’s Eve party. Marinette spent the day beforehand altering her Starling suit. She hit a growth spurt in the four months she was gone, and Marinette was now three inches taller than she was the last time she was in Gotham.

The satellite orbiting Earth is filled with heroes from all over the world, with light and laughter and the melodic voice of Black Canary at the karaoke station, crooning an old-timey jazz tune.

Starling is immediately intercepted by Superboy, and together, they head over to the kids’ corner (read: no alcohol.)

The Teen Titans are already milling around the area, chatting, and Beast Boy waves when he sees them. “Starling! Superboy! Over here!”

Starling’s heart clenches when she notes that Beast Boy, Blue Beetle, Raven, Starfire, and the newer recruits, Wonder Girl (Cassandra Sandsmark), and Impulse (Bart Allen- Barry’s grandson from the future? Or something along those lines?) are all there. Technically, Starfire belongs with the adults, but she seems more than content to play den mother for the kids. The only one missing is Robin.

Superboy hears the change in heartbeat and looks at her with sympathetic blue eyes. Starling takes a deep breath in, steeling herself, and walks towards the group.

“Hello Beast Boy, Raven, Wonder Girl, Impulse, Blue Beetle, Starfire. It’s been a while.”

“Indeed, it has.” Starfire replies. Her feet, previously hovering a foot above the ground, touch the floor- a sign that her joyful mood is dulling. “We are very sorry for your loss.”

“...Thank you. I am also sorry. He was a member of your team too.” Starling says quietly. It has been four months, and she still avoids the subject. Starling supposes it is only natural though. She feels her eyelids burn and forces the tears away. She won’t cry. Not here. Not now.

“So!” Superboy interjects, with a forced smile on his face. “Did any of you guys get the new Ultimate Mecha Strike game?”

Starling appreciates the change in topic. “I am certain the Watchtower has it, actually. My brothers made sure of it. Computer, activate Ultimate Mecha Strike 3.” She commands, and a holographic screen pops up, along with holographic controllers.

“Sweet!” Blue Beetle cheers, and Wonder Girl grins. 

“Ultimate Mecha Strike tournament!” She hollers, and Impulse immediately grabs a controller Superboy takes the other.

“I’ll referee.” Raven says. “I’d rather not participate. The rules are simple. Play fair, and powers are not allowed.”

Impulse beats Superboy and Beast Boy but loses to Wonder Girl. Starfire decimates Wonder Girl and Blue Beetle, and Starling finds everyone begging her (?) to not let Starfire beat them again at videogames.

“Please, Mari?” Jon-El (curse him) brings out the puppy eyes, and Starling hates herself for finding it absolutely adorable. “Video games aren’t even a thing on Tamaran!” 

“Code names, Superboy.” She grumbles before taking the empty controller and choosing the ladybug-themed bot. “You’re an alien too, you know.”

Starling has never played Ultimate Mecha Strike before, but she has played a few others during Richard’s family game nights. She easily gets the hang of the controls.Thirty seconds into the round, Starfire’s bot is in pieces, pixelated sparks flying from the broken machinery.

The Titans cheer, and she smiles. It felt good to be among fellow teenagers who understood the struggle of being heroes and still do normal things. It was nice to not worry about Hawkmoth or the next Arkham breakout (logically, she knew that both were currently active threats and that Tikki was hidden in her utility belt, but there was something about being in space that just… relaxed her.)

“Hey guys!” Superman’s cheerful voice resonates from the satellite’s speakers, and he waves at them from the karaoke stand. “Just wanted to let you know that there’s three minutes until the New Year. Join us so we can count down together!”

The main hall of the Watchtower is truly majestic, with its massive windows overlooking planet Earth, surrounded by the inky darkness of space. 

All the heroes (though some prefer vigilantes) of Earth gather in one enormous room, chanting as one whole as the clock ticks down from ten to [one](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wHKR6l3NXlE).

“Happy New Year, Justice League.” The Watchtower computer intones, and suddenly, everyone around Starling is kissing. Black Canary and Green Arrow, Superman and Lois Lane-Kent, Flash and Iris West-Allen, Nightwing and the now-retired Kid Flash, a helmetless Red Hood and Starfire, then Starfire and Arsenal, then Arsenal and Red Hood- okay. That was a lot to unpack.

Red Robin yanks a surprised Kon-El down and forcefully kisses him, and the original Superboy responds with just as much fervor once the shock wears off a little. Black Bat lurks off to the side, content to watch the romance but never take part.

Starling and Superboy quietly cheer, celebrating that their brothers have _finally_ gotten the courage to kiss.

Starling steals a glance at Superboy, and is surprised to see him looking right at her. A light pink dusts his cheeks, and her heart is pounding so loud that it must be deafening for him.

She gathers her own courage, spurred by Red Robin’s boldness, to stand on her toes, chin tilted up because Jon-El is so _tall_ , and close the difference between them.

Her lips lightly brush Superboy’s cheek, which immediately flames red. 

Marinette smirks at a frozen Jon-El (what was that phrase he taught her? _Superboy.exe has stopped working?_ ) before pulling up her mask to hide how her own face burns.


	13. III-III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gotham made her happy and simultaneously ruined her, dredging up all the bad memories as well as the good ones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M ALIVE AND ACTUALLY UPDATING THIS!
> 
> also, as of about an hour after posting this, open [ this video ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U5Y0uQLgriA) in a separate tab if you want mood-setting music while reading!

Going home for the holidays had been both a blessing and a curse.

One one hand, Marinette got the opportunity to spend time with her siblings and best friend. On another, being back in the city of darkness definitely took its toll on her mind. 

After returning to Paris, she’d wake up night after night with flashes of acid green water, emerald eyes and auburn hair, the flick of a whip, the sound of a sword cutting through her brother’s body, Heretic’s head rolling once, twice, three times before coming to a stop.

Gotham made her happy and simultaneously ruined her, dredging up all the bad memories as well as the good ones.

On the tenth night back, after being woken up by her own screams yet again, she gets out of bed instead of trying to go back to sleep. It would be a fruitless effort, anyway.

Tikki looks at her sadly from her perch on the bed that Marinette made her, and she feels a small pang of guilt for keeping the kwami from a good night’s sleep as well.

“I would like to go for a rooftop run,” She informs Tikki. “Would that be alright with you?”

The kwami nods, and she whispers her transformation words before slipping out onto the roof and leaping off, opting to test her physical limits rather than use her yoyo.

Her steps are featherlight, nearly silent, and wind rushes past her face as she runs and jumps and rolls, navigating the rooftops with ease and familiarity that can only come from continued patrol of the area.

She thinks she’s being quiet, but apparently that’s not enough.

A  _ whoosh _ of air and a blur of red and blue stops her in her tracks as Superboy, the second one, lands in front of her.

“I could hear you from Metropolis,” He quietly informs her, his blue eyes filled with an emotion that makes her want to cry and raises her hackles at the same time, because she does not need anyone to feel pity for her. She decides to stifle both those emotions. There is no need to bother Jon-El with either.

Ladybug cracks a small smile at the sight of her friend, not that he can see it (or can he? It depends on whether or not he’s using x-ray vision) through the mask. “My heartbeat? It is rather difficult to control one’s heartbeat while exercising, you know.”

“No. Your screams,” Jon-El says, and that tiny smile drops off her face. “Mari… Do you want to talk about it?”

“Code names,” Ladybug reminds him, but it’s half-hearted. She sits down on the roof, legs swinging over the edge, and Superboy follows her lead, doing the same.

“You can’t keep this bottled up inside,” He says gently, blue eyes piercing into her soul. “You have to let it out.”

Ladybug sighs through her nose and looks up at the sky, where the stars are actually visible, so unlike home. “I know.”

Jon-El follows her gaze. “The stars are beautiful, aren’t they? You don’t see them in Gotham, and Metropolis is only slightly better.”

Her shoulders are straight, posture rigidly perfect to anyone who doesn’t know her, but those who do would be able to tell that they slump under the weight of a city, secrets, loss, and her own memories.

“He was my brother,” She whispers, barely even making a sound, but she knows he hears it. “He was my  _ brother _ , the first person that I could really trust, the first person to truly understand me. When it seemed like nobody at the Manor wanted us around, we helped each other through it. He was my brother, and he was always there when I needed him. Why couldn’t I save him? Why wasn’t I there when he needed me?”

“You did everything that you could, Mari,” Superboy says, wrapping a careful arm around her shoulder. “You did your best.”

Ladybug doesn’t even bother reminding him about the code names this time. “Yes. I did my best, and it wasn’t enough. It’s never enough.”  _ Cold emerald eyes and auburn hair, the lash of a whip against bare skin, acidic green water and pain pain pain so much pain, a voice, saying that she’s not good enough a failure disappointment can’t do anything right never enough couldn’t even save her own brother more discipline shows too much emotion put her in the Pit wish I could die properly blood so much blood on a sword and around a body in a red tunic and black cape- _

Her thoughts are interrupted when Jon-El, deciding that words aren’t working, pulls her into a full-fledged hug, warm, strong arms wrapping around her and squeezing just tight enough to make her feel safe and secure and not have her senses scream  _ dangerdangerdanger! _

He was always good at knowing her limits and comfort zones.

She lets herself relax into the hug, embracing the warmth that always comes with hugging a Kryptonian and burying her face into his shoulder.

If the shoulder of his suit is wet when they finally pull away, neither of them mentions it.

.o0o.

Life goes on, as much as Marinette doesn’t want it to.

She may want to curl up into a ball in her bedroom back in Gotham, the one with the bunk bed and the two desks, one covered in fabric and the other in artwork, but she can’t.

Instead, she’s on the other side of the world, pretending to be someone else and constantly on alert, ready to leap up and save her city at any moment. 

She wants to go home.

But where is home?

Home isn’t Nanda Parbat, hidden away in the mountains, beautiful on the outside until you hear the screams of agony within.

Home isn’t Paris, where she has to pretend to be someone she’s not, where she went to escape the darkest parts of her mind and had the burden of an entire city placed on her shoulders instead.

The logical conclusion then would be that home is Gotham.

Gotham, where the Manor is. Where her family, Alfred and Dick and Jason and Tim and Cass and Father are, but Gotham is also where Damian once was.

Where he will never step foot in again.

Marinette’s hands curl over her balcony railing long after Superboy returns home and smiles bitterly at the stars above, letting the cool night breeze blow her dark hair out of her eyes. It’s gotten much longer since she came to Paris. For some reason, she can’t bring herself to cut it, despite the fact that the length is starting to get in her way.

She’s never had hair that could brush her shoulders before, and she’s very unused to it.

But she can’t even think about chopping it short again, because in the past, it was always kept short for convenience. So she could fight, kill, even, and it wouldn’t get in the way. Later, it was still so she could fight, but it was for a different cause.

Now, she has magic earrings that automatically shorten her hair when she transforms, so why bother?

(She refuses to admit that maybe she doesn’t want to do it because the ends of her hair have been around since Damian was still alive, and that for some stupid reason, discarding them would be like erasing part of him.)

Above her, the stars twinkle in a way that the ones above Gotham never really seemed to manage, unhindered by the constant smog over the city that both brought her light and sucked it all away.

Marinette has never believed in any one religion, but tonight, she wonders as she looks up at the silver sparkling in the sky.

Where do people’s souls go when they die? Do people have souls at all? Is there another realm, another life beyond this one? Would they become stars?

The scientific part of her brain knows that they cannot become stars, that stars are bright balls of burning gas, but the emotional part of her, the one not powered by logic and so rarely ever allowed to work, can hope.

She looks up, and she finds a star, smaller than the others around it, but burning fiercely bright, reminding her of a boy she once knew, filled with so much pride and anger and determination to do better, to be the best.

(A star only has so much fuel to burn. If it burns brighter, it will also use up all its fuel faster. And it will die, long before the others.)

She looks up at the tiny, bright star, and gives it a small smile and a wave. 

“Hello,  _ akhi. _ ”

The next day, she opens a hidden compartment in her desk and pulls out a katana that was once wielded by a masked boy in red and green and gold, before bringing the blade to her hair and watching as long, dark locks fall onto the floor at her feet.

(The fifth stage of grief is acceptance that the person is gone.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the two and a half month wait. inspiration completely left me for this fic and then I just suddenly wrote 1.3k words last night.
> 
> also, I have like no experience with grief, but I hope it at least makes some sense? She kind of needs to move on in order to keep pushing the story forward though, so I hope it didn't come out too rushed.


	14. III-IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An Italian liar joins the class, a Japanese fencer joins the school, and a half-Kryptonian boy attempts to plead the fifth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote the majority of this out of sheer spite because my brain thought up a single, very specific scene for this au except it takes places like 2 years ish into the future from where the plot is currently headed so like,,, this was me warring with my brain to at least _finish_ this chapter before copying it from my notebook into digital ahaha

There is a new girl when Marinette walks into class, one with brown hair pulled into a hairstyle that reminds her of sausages, though her inner Alfred insists that her observation is impolite.

Marinette takes her usual seat in the far back, her newly cut hair making her feel just the slightest bit lighter, and that makes all the difference. She reaches into her bag and pulls out a plain black sketchbook, flipping it open to the newest page and idly doodling as she waits for class to begin.

Moments later, the new girl comes up to her, a simpering smile on her face that reminds Marinette of galas, where both men and women alike would approach her and her siblings with that exact smile on their faces before cooing over them in hopes of winning her father’s favor.

There was a reason why Marinette always hated galas, and it wasn’t because of the venue or the food.

“Hey,” The girl says, voice positively dripping with obviously (to her, at least) false sweetness. “What’s your name? I’m Lila. Lila Rossi.”

Marinette glances away from her pencil, which has formed a sweater that, if knitted with the right kind of yarn, promises many days of comforting warmth in the winter.

“Marinette,” She says shortly, eyes already returning to her sketch. Hopefully, Lila gets the idea and backs off. 

If she was anything like the people at galas (and so far, she was acting just like them), however, Lila would not take the hint and continue.

Sadly, Marinette’s theory was proven right and she suppresses her initial instinct to headbutt the other girl when she leans over into Marinette’s personal space, brown sausage-tails skimming her sketchbook pages as she observes Marinette’s drawings.

“Those are some really nice designs,” Lila’s voice grates on her ears. Marinette closes her eyes and tells herself that her family would be very disappointed if she broke their no killing rule over something so trivial. Their exception to that rule was for demons, aliens, and spirits, not transfer students who were most likely Italian, judging by the accent, and got in your personal space. “You know, I know a really great designer-”

“No thanks. I’m not interested,” Marinette cuts her off, voice a little sharper than intended. It was a little ridiculous, really, that one measly liar managed to get on her nerves so fast. She might have heard Lila out otherwise, if it weren’t for the fact that Marinette had been trained to read body language, albeit not to Cass’ level. 

And right now, the subtle twitch of Lila’s left hand, the way her nose scrunched up a bit and her eyes were just a little too devious to be innocent told Marinette that she was lying.

Those were tells, she knows, because Lila didn’t have those when she told Marinette her name.

Lila huffs, but Marinette lifts her head up and turns on the look her family has dubbed the Batglare, which, along with Adrien’s entrance into the classroom, successfully dissuades the other girl.

The new girl moves away from her desk and to the blond model’s side in an instant, and Marinette allows herself a small sigh of relief as the other girl exits her personal space bubble.

There are only a few people she allows within those lines. Lila Rossi is most certainly not one of them.

.o0o.

During lunch, Marinette is greeted with a surprise when she enters the cafeteria.

“Kagami!” She says with a little more shock in her tone than she actually feels as she sits down in the seat opposite the fencer. “It’s been a little while.”

Only around two weeks, really, but the last time she checked, Kagami was homeschooled by a private tutor. So why was she here?

Kagami gives her an awkward smile, as if her facial muscles aren’t used to being pulled that way. Considering her strict upbringing (though nowhere near the League’s), that was entirely plausible. “Hello, Marinette. My mother finally agreed to allow me to attend a public school. I may or may not have used you as an argument to sway her.”

Marinette has met Tomoe Tsurugi exactly once, just a little bit before she went home for the holidays. Kagami’s mother was a formidable woman, and it was a bit more difficult to gauge her thoughts from her body language, as the woman was impressively stoic, but Marinette had been taught by her older sister, whose first language was that of the human body. She thought Kagami’s mother had liked her well enough.

Evidently, she was right, if Kagami had been allowed to go to public school after telling her mother that she went to the same school.

“Well,” Marinette says, eyes sparkling. “I, for one, am certainly not complaining.”

They spend lunch chatting about anything and everything, and it’s the best day that she’s had in a long time.

.o0o.

Marinette pulls her mask off and tucks it back into her duffel bag, stowing her fencing gear away into her locker.

“I’d almost forgotten what it was like to duel you,” Kagami remarks from beside her over the sounds of the other fencers packing up. Marinette’s lips twitch.

“It hasn’t been _that_ long.” She replies. In her pocket, her phone vibrates with an incoming call. A quick glance shows that it’s from Jon.

“Excuse me,” Marinette says to Kagami. “I need to take this.” The other girl nods with serious brown eyes as Marinette quickly exits the locker room and accepts the call.

“Jon, are you not still in school?”

“Lunch break,” Her friend replies cheerfully, chipper as ever. “Look outside, Mari.”

Well, wasn’t that interesting sentence. “Jon,” She says calmly. “Did you fly to Paris during your lunch break?”

A pause. She hears the sound of his feet shuffling on concrete. “Uh… I plead the fifth?”

“That only applies in the United States,” Marinette retorts. “Which you left when you flew across the Atlantic Ocean.”

On the other end, Jon stays silent. She can almost hear the sheepish smile that is most certainly on his face as she strides towards the school’s exit.

Jon’s head snaps up, radioactive blue eyes meeting hers immediately when she pushes open the door and steps out.

“It is nice to see you in person,” Marinette smiles at her best friend, who beams back at her. “But you can’t just fly to Paris in the middle of the school day, Jon.”

The face he makes resembles a kicked puppy, and Marinette hates the little skip her heart does when she sees it. _Emotions are a weakness, Marinette. You do not let yourself feel, and you will be all the stronger for it._

Marinette supposes that Talia may have been right, because she can never resist Jon for long, but she doesn’t particularly mind.

“But since you’re already here, I suppose we should make the most if it,” She relents, and Jon’s expression immediately shifts back into that blinding smile, the one that never failed to sway someone to his side.

“Great! Where do you think we should go?” Jon asks, and Marinette tilts her head, pretending to think for a moment, though she already has a place in mind.

“The park,” She says decisively. “It is also near the bakery, so you can try Sabine’s egg custard tarts as well on the way.

Jon hums thoughtfully. “Are they as good as Alfred’s?”

Marinette stands on her toes so she can whisper in his ear, though the gesture is only superficial because of his super-hearing. “Do not tell Alfred, but I think they may actually be better,” She confesses. “Alfred never quite found the perfect ratio of egg yolk and cream to get the texture exactly right.”

She basks in the sound of his laughter the way a cat seeks out a patch of warm sunshine. “Lead the way, Mari.”

.o0o.

Marinette is walking alongside Jon in the park, listening to him talk about the Titans’ latest mission, when she notices a familiar person sitting on a park bench, thumbing through an ancient-looking book.

As soon as her mind registers that it’s Lila, the new girl from earlier, Tikki wriggles frantically inside her jacket pocket – a sign that they need to talk.

“Cover me,” She hisses to Jon, who nods instantly as she ducks behind a tree, and he strategically places himself so that he can both hide her from outside eyes and still remain casual. Curse parks and their lack of good places to hide.

As soon as they’re tucked away from prying eyes, Tikki zips out of her jacket.

“That book,” The kwami says, flitting agitatedly through the air. “We need to get that book, Marinette. It belongs to the Guardian.”

“Tt. Did that pathetic fool lose it along with the butterfly and peacock miraculouses?” Marinette tuts, before growing serious again. “Why is this book important?”

“It has all the known information on the miraculouses,” Her kwami replies, looking at her with wide, pleading blue eyes. “That information could be super dangerous in the wrong hands. I know you don’t like the Guardian, Marinette, but the book is much safer in his care than it is in the outside world.”

Marinette sighs. “I know that. Fu is still an idiot, but I’ll retrieve the book for him.”

Tikki nods once and tucks herself back into Marinette’s jacket pocket. Jon, having heard the entire exchange, knows that is his cue to leave his position, and they fold seamlessly back into their walking rhythm, Jon picking up his story right where he left off like it never even happened.

But they both watch the brunette with sharp eyes, always keeping her in the corner of their vision, waiting for an opportunity to strike.

Out of the corner of her eye, Marinette notices Adrien enter the park. Moments later, Lila sees him too, and stands up, throwing the book into a nearby trash can in one smooth motion before moving to meet him.

Inside her pocket, Tikki gives a scandalized gasp that she elects to ignore in favor of flashing a hand signal at Jon. _Go._

If he weren’t here, she’d find a way to sneak it out of the trash can herself in broad daylight with no cover. After all, she was a Bat. They always found a way.

But it is so much simpler to just have her friend put on a burst of super speed, gone and back in less than a blink of an eye with the ancient book in hand.

 _Thank you_ , Marinette signs with one hand, bringing her fingers up towards her lips before moving them down and out towards Jon, who tilts his head in a cheerful grin, radioactive blue eyes sparkling in the late afternoon sun.

 _Always,_ he signs back, right index finger pointing to the sky as he draws a circle in the air, the back of his hand facing her. _Always._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still learning ASL, so please, please, _please_ if I'm using any of the signs incorrectly!!!
> 
> update: this chapter now has [ fanart](https://m3owww.tumblr.com/post/640687274078683136/sdlfkjsdlfjfd-this-is-so-cute-i-love-it-so-much) by @too0bsessedformyowngood on tumblr and I'm still crying over it because it's so cute ldkjfdfsl

**Author's Note:**

> find me on [tumblr](https://m3owww.tumblr.com/)!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Assassin Princess](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28797468) by [pepperlover100](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pepperlover100/pseuds/pepperlover100)




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